Gotta Be Somebody
by Echo of a Memory
Summary: -Twilight/HP Crossover- War weary, Harry disappeared from Britain. And so, armed with a new identity, he attempted to settle down into a somewhat peaceful life. Which, of course, ended spectacularly when he met the locals... HP/JH Friendship
1. Cry of a Broken Heart

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 1: Cry of a Broken Heart

* * *

This time, I wonder what it feels like  
To find the one in this life, the one we all dream of  
But dreams just aren't enough

So I'll be waiting for the real thing, I'll know it by the feeling  
The moment when we're meeting, will play out like a scene  
Straight off the silver screen  
So I'll be holding my own breath, right up 'til the end  
Until that moment when, I find the one that I'll spend forever with

Cause nobody wants to be the last one there  
And everyone wants to feel like someone cares  
Someone to love with my life in their hands  
There's gotta be somebody for me like that

Cause nobody wants to do it on their own  
And everyone wants to know they're not alone  
There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere  
There's gotta be somebody for me out there…

**-Gotta Be Somebody by Nickelback-**

* * *

Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to. At least not in the way Dumbledore had pitched the scenario, how he had planned for their attack against the Deatheaters and Voldemort. Everything seemed to work perfectly and then it went straight to hell.

It was supposed to be a surprise attack. It was a way to give a blow to the darker forces and thus give them the advantage and pave the way to victory. However, there were certain scenarios they didn't take into account.

The Dark Lord had more recruits and greater numbers than the headmaster had reported. They were also outfitted with better equipment, trained better, and more than willing to kill.

Even with the disadvantage, the Light side had tactics and experience on their side. And for the most part, they fared well. Having had the plan drilled in their heads before hand, they fought as one and followed it to perfection.

Of course they fought on when things took a turn for the worst. After all, they had Dumbledore's plan and the Boy-Who-Lived on their side. And because they followed the man blindly, it had cost them dearly.

Dull, emerald eyes watched disinterestedly as the clouds swept by the small port window. It had been a long ride and he still had a while before he reached his destination. Not that he couldn't have been reached it easily by magical means, but at the moment he just didn't feel like it.

He didn't feel like much of anything these days anyways. Everything just seemed to pass him by in daze. Well not everything, at least his self preservation instincts were still very much intact and functioning. The fact that he had summoned enough consciousness to arrange for this getaway said that much. Still, even this far from Britain didn't help keep away the ghosts that haunted him.

_They had been blindsided by a flank attack. The frontlines were manned by the Inner Circle causing most of the Order's focus to be put there. However, they should have been on the look out for the most formidable, and dangerous foe. He seemed to be absent from the field that day, some had wondered where he could be._

They were gone. All of them.

_And then he struck. It was without warning and on their weak side, which was the side that the DA had been manning. Screams of pain, horror, and torture, ripped through the battlefield. And then the explosions began. _

And he was tired. So very tired of it all.

_Dust and smoke filled the air, obscuring the field around him. The very air burned his lungs and made his eyes water. _

He had tried so hard. He'd bled, sweat, been tortured and for what?

_The smoking ground was littered with ashes, bodies, rubble, fires, and death. The only sound that heard was the crackling of the flames and his breathing._

In the end he hadn't been able to protect any of them.

_Hands, slick with his blood, grasped onto the holly wand shaking slightly from exhaustion. A small rivulet streamed down the tip and dripped on the ground._

He couldn't save them.

_Green, unseeing eyes took in the field blankly. The devastated grounds were stained red. _

Harry tucked his head into the small pillow, provided for such long flights, and tried to doze off. After fighting for so long and being the victim of so many circumstances, he'd developed into an extremely light sleeper.

_He took a shaky step as he staggered forward. His foot slid out from under him as soon as it came down. He grunted when he met the ground with a dull thud._

And he had nightmares. Perhaps this new beginning would help him heal, if only a little.

_With a painful exhausted groan, he pushed himself upright. Coming out of the daze, Harry looked around to see what he slipped on and froze in horror. _

Trying to get comfortable, he squirmed in his seat a bit before giving up. He'd never be able to sleep here.

_Half of a torso lay mutilated in front of him, the intestines and organs splattered every which way. Shakily he glanced down towards his legs and almost gagged. _

Who was he kidding? He just wanted to get away from it all.

_Long, white, stringy intestines wrapped around ankle, juices soaking into his already filthy clothing. Parts of it were smashed and squished into the ground where he'd slipped. _

It had all seemed like a dream come true. He'd been rescued from the horrible drudgery that were his relatives and sent to live in a magical place where the fantastic was everyday life.

_Harry scrambled backwards, beyond disgusted and frightened. Turning to retch he came face to face with the torso's mutilated head. He screamed. _

He'd made friends, learned magic, and found family. He was somebody to someone and his life mattered. He could be a child for a little while and not have to worry about having to do chores or running from Dudley.

And then he was introduced to the ugly side of that world. All of his wonder and awe, naïveté and enthusiasm were shattered as he learned the horrible truth. But that paled in comparison as to the expectations placed on his shoulders. Somehow he was expected to fight evil and triumph.

Or die in the process. Either way was acceptable for the Wizarding World.

The seat belt sign chimed pulling the depressed teen from his spiraling thoughts. They would be landing soon and he would be that much closer to his destination. A place that was out of the way and somewhere no one would ever think to come looking for him.

Tiredly the teen peaked out the window. It was dark out and he could barely make out the runway lights through the fog.

San Francisco International Airport.

He'd wondered what it would look like. Getting a quick description from a traveling business man when he'd been waiting at Heathrow wasn't that informative.

Harry sighed inaudibly as the jet engines roared signaling that they were coming in for a landing. He was scheduled for a short layover before catching the next flight up to Seattle. From there he would rent a car and head down into a small, obscure community some hours away and look for a place to retire.

Choosing Forks, of all places, had actually been hard. He could have gone anywhere. If he was trying to lay low, he could chosen to stay in one of the larger cities and become another anonymous face in the crowd. However, after all his time at Hogwarts and Little Whinging, he learned that he didn't want to be around a populace that was larger than three digits.

Coming across Forks in his research was by chance, pure and simple. From everything he was able to find, which wasn't much, it sounded like a place that would suit his needs. He wasn't completely sold on community though. He definitely would need to scout out the town and surrounding areas first.

If he ever did feel the need to be amongst civilization again, Seattle was a drive away and that was somewhat comforting. One major selling point, though, was that there were no known magical being, creatures or otherwise within the major area. Seattle had a small community, but it was mostly deemed as Goth territory and the like. It was nothing that was taken seriously by anyone, especially, European wizards who would scoff and mostly likely label them backwater hicks.

Most of America's magical communities were centered on the east coast and a few down south in the major cities in California. As much as he could determine, this was pretty much magically blind country and something of a frontier. The most supernatural he would probably find would be the odd Bigfoot or a lake monster and chances of running into either of those were slim at best. And it was also perfect for, say, a wizard trying to hide and not want their magical signature found out or tracked. And if something did happen, he could slip away into the forest and head for the mountains.

What drew him most was the small town idea of living and the isolation the location provided. It seemed an ideal existence and peaceful. Something he desperately wanted.

The bump of the wheels making contact with the runway let him know they had touched down and the sudden pull forward signaled that they were slowing. Harry stuffed the pillow beside him and waited for the flight attendants to give the passengers the signal.

He almost made it. Just a few more hours of travel and he'd be there.

With a sigh, the raven haired teen ran a tired hand through his shaggy locks, grimacing at the oily feel. Just another reminder of someone lost to him. He shoved the thoughts away. Hopefully he'd be able to get to a hotel soon and shower.

Then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to keep his nightmares at bay for one night.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: Wells, here goes then. Just another one of your standard Harry Potter/Twilight Crossovers…then again maybe not (*grins maniacally*). I mean, I think this might be something completely from left field. Oh, the surprises ahead (*rubs hands gleefully*).

Enjoy!!

Echo 1/17/2009


	2. Scattered to the Winds

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 2: Scattered to the Winds　　

* * *

I always expected to die.

That's just the way it was.

It was wonted of me.

…To sacrifice everything.

Now…now I'm dying.

And I'm glad.

Because… because, I never really lived.

And I have no reason to now.

I'm just so tired, so weary.

I just want a little peace.

To lay down and sleep…

And never wake up.

* * *

"_Move it, Potter." Malfoy growled as he blasted the other boy out of range before diving off to the side in avoidance of a secondary curse sent his way. The slicing hex narrowly missing them both and would have disemboweled any flesh it contacted. _

"_Bloody Malfoy." Harry snarled back, rolling over to avoid a stray spell and picking himself up from when the blasted spell had landed him. In the confusion and chaos, somehow the two rivals ended up back-to-back, fighting for each other's skins. _

_Voldemort had caught Harry off guard, while he was fighting a few deatheaters, and would have destroyed the teen with an overpowered slicing hex if Draco hadn't showed up last second and banished him out of the way. It seemed the Malfoy Heir had finally made his choice and, boy, was Harry ever secretly glad that it was on his side. Not that he'd admit it aloud…ever…under torture even. _

"_Pay attention, Potter." The blonde snapped throwing up a shield to neutralize the incoming spells. "I can't always save your arse."_

"_Git. I don't need your help." _

_Granted their less than amiable regard for each other showed in the painful ways they saved each other's hides, but they were an effective team. Strangely enough, they worked better together than even the golden trio…on a good day. _

"_Move it. Or lose it." Harry scramble to his feet. Like hell Malfoy was going to do all the work._

"_Shut it." He snapped before sending off a series of spells. Harry spun around just in time to see a group of deatheaters fall. He hadn't even noticed them coming._

_In spite of all their childish bickering, the other teen was indeed an accomplished dueler and powerful in his own right. For all his bark, he had a vicious bite. Once back on his feet, Draco was sending layered spells and trapping his opponents in clever guises. If anything the other teen was a walking work of art when it came to spell play. Their brief time on the battlefield definitely cemented Harry's growing respect for the other boy and an understanding between them. _

"_Bloody hell, Draco." The pureblood froze just as Harry stepped up. _

"_Potter, watch out!" a body collided into his own._

_And it lasted right until the blonde tackled him out of the path of a sickly green light. And in doing so, took the hit. Harry stared in growing horror as the blonde's silver eye glazed over and remained open and unseeing. _

_He had been one of the last._

_And then there was just him and Voldemort. _

* * *

Harry eyed the small town critically. He wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or elated by what he found. Forks was everything he'd imagined and at the same time nothing like anything he'd ever come across before (which wasn't saying much).

It was small. And old.

It definitely had the stereotypical worn and lived in feeling. Definitely a small town.

The weather was just as he'd imagined it to be, a dull grey and overcast. It suited him perfectly well considering he did come from the United Kingdom and had attended school in Scotland. It was like having a bit of familiarity in a strange new place, which was comforting.

At the moment Harry's feelings were mixed up. Half of him wanted to turn straight around and head back to Seattle. There he could remain anonymous and it wouldn't be a big deal. The other half wanted to stay. The place had a small homey feel, even if parts looked decrepit and abandoned.

Sighing, he pulled into a lot that had a small series of shops, one of which looked like a general convenience store. He was still a while from the 'downtown' area, however, he was in need of information and a map. Having a local give him a few pointers was probably a wise decision as they'd know the layout of their town better than some professional topographers.

It wasn't as hard to get information as he'd imagined. In fact the lady behind the counter seemed a bit_ too_ enthusiastic for his tastes but he did get the information he sought. Also she pointed out probably the best map for him to use which helped.

When he later compared the one he got and the one he bought from the airport, the differences were remarkable and his respect for the map maker went up a notch. He'd have no trouble finding his way around if the map was correct as it seemed. That was something he decided needed to be done.

It also helped that his small blue Honda Accord, a rental, had adequate mileage and was relatively new. He'd blend in a bit and be able to look around for something suitable.

If there was one thing he was sure about it was his 'staying in Forks' side was gaining ground as he drove around, following the map, and taking in the surroundings. So far the map was as accurate as he hoped.

When he finally reached the 'downtown' area, everything fell into place. It wasn't too busy. The traffic congestion was next to nil. Also it looked like he wouldn't have to travel very far to gain the basic necessities.

The schools he passed looked quaint enough and the entire area just had a peaceful feel to it. Seeing a real estate agency off to the right, he made the decision to check out what they had listed and perhaps find a place. It would be best to know what his options were before committing. With that he pulled into an empty spot and headed in.

* * *

Like most days in Forks, the Century 21 Realty office was quiet and business was slow. Since the town was rather small and out of the way, not many people seemed willing to stay longer than a fortnight.

So the agent was understandably surprised when a rather striking, dark haired youth entered and began perusing the 'For Sale' section of the local housing. It took her a moment to gather her wits before straightening her wrinkled outfit and bustled over to her potential customer. Perhaps this would be her lucky day.

"May I help you sir?"

Harry regarded the agent out of the corner of his eye, though she couldn't tell that, through his Oakley's. She was a middle aged woman, slightly on the older side, respectably dressed in a business suit, and had bits of grey sprinkled through her hair.

She seemed harmless enough. With a mental shrug he decided to go forward and run with it.

"Yes, I was looking for housing, could you show me what is for sale or rent?"

The lilt of the accented voice caught the agent by surprise. She had thought that it was some local teen trying to play a prank or what not, not someone obviously foreign to the parts.

"Well, here. I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of renting here in Forks, however there are a few houses that are for sale."

He nodded as if considering her words carefully. Perhaps he wasn't looking for a permanent residence.

"Is there a day we could set up an appointment and look at a few of these?" he finally asked, gesturing towards the wall.

"We could go now if you like."

"No, no, better not. I'll drop by tomorrow."

"Well, as of right now my appointment schedule is fairly open, what time will I put you down for?"

The teen took his time thinking about it before coming to a decision. The more he saw of this place, the more he felt that it suited him. "How about eleven o'clock on the morrow?"

The agent bustled over to her appointment book and jotted it down. "Yes, that would be perfect. Mr.- "

"Hunter. Thank you for your time."

With a curt nod the teen left. He had to finish mapping out the town. It took him a moment to circle the location of the office on the map and jot a note down for the appointment and time. He was curious as to what she'd pick out for him. He'd left it purposefully open ended

Just as exited the small office, something tickled the edge of his senses. Freezing slightly Harry let the sensation pass over him, his mind working furiously to identify the disturbance.

Just as quickly as he sensed it, it was gone, much to his annoyance. He couldn't tell yet whether it was a threat or not. The sensational 'glimpse' of it was hardly enough to base any conclusion on. Perhaps he was overreacting to a flashback? It had happened before, and he was reasonably sure that this was a completely non-magical town.

With a scowl, Harry firmly pushed the memory to the back of his mind…in a very, very dark corner, labeling it as paranoia. He was probably reacting to his conditioning during the magical battles he fought in Britain.

Still…

It had a familiar quality to it. Something he couldn't place right away. And that made him slightly uneasy. He was supposed to be in the 'Wild Frontier' of the magical world in a magically blind country which meant that most magic would be negated through natural barriers or distances.

It was deemed 'wild' country because nothing solid could be determined or founded like in the European communities. It seemed like the American Continents didn't want to be subjugated to the strain said communities put on their natural resources. They land, like the people, bowed to no one and that was why it was ideal for a magical being to hide here.

The wild magic of the earth would not be bound. Harry compared it to trying to get to repelling ends of a magnet to attract. It just didn't happen, much to the chagrin of the 'old world'. That wasn't to say that it was completely free of magic wielders, it was just that they practices different arts because the traditional European methods just didn't work.

Realizing that he was still standing in front of the realty office, Harry shook his head as if clearing his thoughts, a habit he picked up during the preparations for the battles he fought in. It would probably come to him later anyways. With that thought he hopped in the rental and made off for Seattle.

There were places there he was interested in looking into. He also wanted to be familiar with the layout as well if he decided to stay there. He'd see after tomorrow if Forks was indeed the place for him.

* * *

Harry crashed on the couch as soon as he walked in the door of his hotel room. It was serviceable for his needs and he wasn't planning on staying there for very long anyways.

Tiredly he threw an arm over his eyes and groaned. The jet lag was finally getting to him and he was exhausted. Between his nightmares, flashbacks and insomnia, he was barely hanging on to coherent thought. Not that it really mattered to him at the moment. It was still early in the evening and he couldn't decide whether or not the nightlife would appeal to him or to go straight to bed.

This was the first time he was truly on his own. No relatives, no Order members on watch duty, no deatheaters to look out for, nothing. He was just beginning to recognize his incredible sense of freedom and relish it. At the moment he felt like he was on vacation and had just got back from attending an amusement park or something of that nature.

The teen groaned as he rolled over and clumsily got to his feet. He had been going non-stop since he stepped off the plane and the drain on his energy was hitting him right then.

Food.

Food would be good. He still had some leftovers from that morning's breakfast, before he made the trip into the small town. Considering he still had a majority of the meal left in the carry-out container, it would tide him over until the morning. One thing that was somewhat comforting was that portions were relatively the same in the United States as they were back in Hogwarts.

Granted the school was more of a buffet style, but one could eat as much as they wanted which for someone like him, who came from an abusive, neglectful background, it was a very good thing. Here the portions were just big and since his appetite shrunk during the years of fighting, he could keep some of the meal for later. And he certainly wasn't in danger of becoming overweight anytime soon.

Searching through the plastic bag, he was able to fish out some plastic utensils and some paper napkins the waitress kindly provided him. He set them aside on the counter, so he wouldn't accidentally melt or deform them. Accidents did tend to happen when he wasn't careful.

Harry stuck the Styrofoam box in the microwave and, after a few moments of figuring out which button was meant for what function, he finally set about to heating it up. The drone of the machine allowed the teen's thoughts to wonder in other directions.

If tomorrow did workout and he did find a place that suited him, he'd definitely have to see what needed to be done. Also to see if there were any problems that needed to be taken care of before he could move in or what not. Also he needed have his paperwork ready. Most people would be suspicious as to why a minor would be on their own, house hunting no less, and without a guardian. Thankfully his emancipation paperwork had gone through, at least his relatives were good for something. And the Visa would do for the time being before he either had to renew it or apply for dual citizenship.

There was also the problem of transportation. He had his license, Moony had seen to that thankfully before he…, so driving wasn't an issue. It would be the type of vehicle.

A moped perhaps?

Harry sighed tiredly. He'd have to look at what the nearby dealership had in stock.

He definitely had to plan what he would do. Moving into a town as small as the one he was considering, where everyone knew each other, the privacy of hermitage wouldn't be an option.

School, perhaps? And what year would he be going into?

He sincerely doubted the academic systems were the same here in the States and in Britain. Luckily it was the beginning of August and he had time before the fall semester started. He only saw one high school? on the way in. Perhaps he'd drop by for a visit?

Harry stopped the current train of thoughts. Forks wasn't his home yet. He couldn't claim it as such until he found what he needed. Though, he was strongly leaning in that direction.

Everything rode on tomorrow. If he didn't find a place, then he'd have to rethink his itinerary and plan to stay here in Seattle.

The microwave beeped, signaling it was done heating his dinner. It smelled good, hopefully he could hold it down tonight, unlike this morning.

Harry looked blankly at the hot carton before gathering up everything he needed and plopped down on the couch to eat and flipped on the Tele. So far he hadn't had one flashback that day, maybe if he kept his mind busy, he'd be able to get some sleep.

Finding nothing remotely interesting, besides the local weather channel, the teen turned off the device and threw away the carton. His exhaustion took over as soon as his head hit the pillows. He had the first dreamless night in years.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: I'm calling it now (just a friendly heads up so I won't have to say 'I told you so' later on, though, I may do that anyways): everyone will at one point or another (and possibly multiple times) want to kill me before this story is complete, that much I can guarantee (*grins maniacally*).

I'll leave you to puzzle that out.

(*Mini Rant*) : How can someone confess to being in love with another after a dinner and a car drive?? Infatuation, fascination, lust, crush, obsession, and even fixation, I understand, but love??

(I threw the book across the room after reading that. Err, you could say I had a slight problem with that part. Potential for greatness went *squish* in a few short words…yeah, I'll go now)

Until next time.

Echo 1/19/09


	3. Welcome to No Man's Land

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory　　

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer　

* * *

Chapter 3: Welcome to No Man's Land

* * *

"Stop."

"What is it?"

They had been looking at properties for a few hours. None seemed to spark the young wizard's interest, even though some of them were in excellent condition.

It was quite aggravating actually. She was sure that he would take to the first few choices, all of which were in good neighborhoods and had been recently renovated. There were actually a few he instantly dismissed on sight without getting out of the car.

She would have thought that they could have stopped after the fifth location. After all, most of her clients settled for one of the first choices within the first hour. It was not exactly exciting but definitely good for business. Now, she was literally grasping at straws. Since he dismissed almost all of the in-town residences, she decided to take him to the outskirts.

Apparently none of those were what he had in mind either. So here they were, further out of Forks than the realtor would have liked, but still on the hunt. Another disappointment had them on the road again towards their next destination, the seventeenth to be exact, when a lot they were approaching caught his interest.

"What about there." Harry gestured towards a rather rundown looking place. The agent slowed her car to a halt, after pulling off to the side of the road, to give him a better look.

Paint was peeling off the sides, a few shingles were missing while others had moss on them, some were split and others were curling. On top of that the weeds were sprouting all over the yard in what looked like a hostile takeover of said yard.

The driveway had large cracks, pot holes and an occasional large root breaking through it every so often. The asphalt looked ages old and about ready to fall apart. The entire place was sheltered by huge sequoia and redwood trees, partially hiding it from view. Beyond the front of the house the view was obscured in shadows so the size of the house couldn't be determined just by looking on the outside.

The entire lot was actually quite ugly. It was old and decrepit. Used and worn away by time and the elements. One that had definitely seen better days and looked like it was on the verge of falling apart.

The house was definitely a fixer-upper. And it was perfect in Harry's opinion.

"Well, it's been foreclosed for a while now." The agent, Mrs. Grayson he learned, frowned in thought, "there's no telling what it's like inside or the condition of the electricity and plumbing."

"Can we have a look?"

"Um, well, I guess." The real estate agent looked unsure. She began ruffling through her paper and bag to determine if she had the key. "It might not be habitable."

"I'll take that chance."

* * *

"This is the kitchen, erm, as you can tell it needs a bit of help." The agent gestured toward the dilapidated room. A few of the appliances had rusted over and there were leaves and muddy animal prints everywhere. The glass of what had been the kitchen window had been broken and had tree branches sticking through.

So far every room was in a similar condition. It made the realtor nervous. After all, this place had been abandoned for years and who knew what the structural integrity was like.

And throughout the tour, the teen hadn't said anything beyond the appropriate responses to questions. She had no way of reading him and whether he wanted the place or not, the sunglasses he perpetually wore acted like a shield and hid his thoughts.

She supposed he was interested, since she was initially just going to bypass the place, because he did point it out to her. The house, though, didn't make a good impression. It was a two story Victorian that looked like it hadn't been touched since it was first built. It seemed like most of the upper stairs caved in on itself. And the only room that was even remotely serviceable was a small bedroom just at the top of the stairs. Everything else was collapsed.

She had been particularly nervous climbing the narrow wooden staircase. It creaked so loudly and a few of the steps had even rotted away.

As far as livable spaces went, only the front rooms could even be remotely considered thusly. They were the front parlor, living room and kitchen. She had actually been horrified at the state they found everything in and wanted to leave. This was not good for business if word got around that she put client's lives in danger by taking them to structurally compromised sites then she would be ruined.

Contrary to what she thought, Harry was actually enjoying himself. It was like exploring the halls of Hogwarts again, only on a much, much smaller scale. He supposed it was because they didn't know what exactly they were going to find in this place.

He did admit that it was a dump. It probably would have been far easier to just tear the entire place down and rebuild it from scratch. Having grown up in the neat and tidy little house on Privet Drive did instill a sense of need for cleanliness.

The place did need a lot of work. He supposed that if worse came to worse, he could cheat a bit. He wasn't asking for anything large anyway.

"And that's it…I guess." They had arrived back at the front entrance. The badly concealed look of relief almost made Harry want to burst out laughing. "Is there anything else you would like to have a look at?" The agent was mentally crossing her fingers hoping to get out of the spooky dump.

Unfortunately for her the teen wasn't quite willing to leave at the moment. He wanted a second look before he informed her of his decision.

"Could we have another look at the parlor?"

"Of course."

The room was actually quite spacious. Also it was rather clean considering how the elements had ravaged the rest of the lot. In a way it almost felt like the Gryffindor common room, he felt somewhat at home.

The teen took another walk around, careful to avoid the water damaged floorboards, inspect the place a bit more closely. The agent just stood by the entrance and looked on.

Mrs. Grayson regarded the strange teen as he made his rounds. He was an odd one. There was something about him that was different from anything she'd ever felt. Not necessarily bad, but whatever it was made her slightly uncomfortable. He was also one of the most mature teens she'd ever met.

When she first encountered him, she'd thought he was taller than he really was. Most likely it was because his presence made him seem that way. It was overpowering, commanding even, something she likened to an army officer. There was a feeling about him that was akin to the war weary leadership that she had occasionally met, especially the men who'd fought and led the frontline battalions or were on the special unit squads.

At the idea she scoffed slightly to herself. The notion that this teenage _boy_ had led people into battle was a little too farfetched for her liking. Perhaps this place was addling her mind more than she thought.

True he seemed the serious sort, but that hardly de-merited the young man. In fact he seemed to have quite the sharp mind. Not that she minded, on the contrary. It was nice to have an intelligent conversation every once and a while. And he never made her feel stupid either, in fact he was quite the gentleman (unlike so many males in Forks).

Although why he would be interested in this heap was beyond her. Maybe it was a British thing? She'd have to ask without being intrusive though.

"I'll take it." Startled, the agent stared at her client. His back was to her as he was inspecting something on a part of the wall.

"Excuse me?"

She didn't see the slight grin that he wore at her surprised answer. It was pleasant to have something to smile about nowadays. Try as he might, Harry couldn't completely hide his amusement, which was all too clear, when he replied.

"I'll take the property. You mentioned earlier that the woods nearby was state land?"

"Well, um, yes." She was flustered, it was an amusing sight. "But no one really bothers with that as they rarely go into them."

"May I ask why?"

"Well, the wildlife for one, dear. We do have quite a number of large predators here. Also, the light disappears quickly here and especially in the forest. You don't want to be caught in there when the sun sets."

"There have been too many accidents and missing persons." She blabbered on, "so not many people enter unless they're on known trails. Most people head towards the beaches and Quilete territory. It's safer over there."

"Quilete?"

"Our resident Native American tribe. They mostly keep to themselves on the reservation, but if you ever meet them, they are quite friendly and don't hesitate to help. In fact some of us regard them as out unofficial protectors, considering this used to be their land until the government annexed it."

Harry didn't show his confusion. He understood a majority of what she said, but as soon as she started referencing history, he was lost. Mentally he sighed. He had so much to learn, especially if everyone made references to things, people, and events he wasn't even aware of. In that sense the Wizarding World cheated him out of an education.

Then again, there hadn't ever been a need to know anything beyond their borders. Or that's what they taught. The already glaring short comings of the community he had once inhabited were becoming more obvious as life went on without them.

"Are you sure you want this place?" she had to double check, breaking Harry from his reverie. It was then he realized that he'd been staring at the same crack in the wall for over ten minutes, "This is a rather large home improvement project. Are you sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Well, I have learned thing or two over the years." His countenance saddened as though the thought had made an old memory resurface. He finally turned and regarded her through his sunglasses.

"Yes, I would like this place very much."

"Well then, we'll just have to return to the office and file the paperwork."

With a nod of agreement, the pair left. One was grateful to be gone from the place while the other was indifferent. Just before he entered the passenger side of the car, Harry threw a glance back at his soon to be home. Somehow, to him, it didn't look as empty as it had before they entered.

Faintly, but distinctly, the edges of his sharpened senses were tickled by a presence. It seemed at odds with the surrounding tranquility he was picking up from the forest. It sharply reminded the war veteran of the anomaly the day before.

His brows furrowed as he quickly glanced around, though his glasses hide the fact, which was useful if one didn't want to be giving anything away to potential enemies. So far the coast seemed clear, which wasn't saying much.

And yet there it was, just beyond his sensing abilities. So far it was stationary, unmoving. Strangely enough, he knew not how, but it seemed to have a slightly different feel. Not that that meant much at the moment, he had no way of identifying the source, but it was enough to set him on edge.

And then…nothing. It was gone.

The click of the keys entering the ignition brought his attention back to the other human present and reminded him of why he was there in the first place. Not wanting to keep the realtor waiting a moment longer Harry hopped inside hoping against hope that he was just being paranoid again.

* * *

"So…what'd you find out?" Curiosity couldn't be held at bay any longer.

"Nothing much really. I couldn't get his scent." Exasperation and amusement were rolled into one.

"Don't worry, we'll meet him soon."

"I don't know if that will be a good thing…there's something familiar about him."

"Come on, let's go home."

"If you insist."

* * *

The drive back was uneventful, peaceful actually. The Washington landscape had a wild rugged beauty to it. It was, well, alive would be the only way to describe it. The land was just so green and lush. Harry was beginning to appreciate his choice a bit more, now that he was spending time looking, breathing and _feeling_ the land and air.

However as much as he would have loved to look out upon the forested crags, his mind was elsewhere. For once, though, he wasn't dwelling on the past. It seemed that this place was good for him after all.

"You know, with all the people moving in here, I'm wondering if Forks is finally getting the recognition it deserves."

That perked her passenger's interest. He'd been zoning out a bit trying to figure out if he was finally cracking or not. "Do you get many new people here?" Harry honestly wanted to know if he was the only one that decided to settle here. That way he could brace for the inevitable.

He should have known better, because that seemed to open up the lively conversationalist side of the realtor. Now he knew where one of the primary sources of the gossip mill originated from.

"Well, no." the agent admitted, "But just last year there was a rather large family that moved here from Alaska. Cullen I believe is the name. He's a doctor at the local hospital and she's a stay at home wife, as far as I can gather. Did you know…"

'Lord, these people are almost as bad at gossip as Hogwarts.' He tuned her out in favor of focusing his attention on the interior of the car she was currently driving. At least she was well meaning enough, not one of the vicious types that he knew a bit too well. Still it was nice to know he wasn't the only outsider, otherwise the attention might unbearable, no matter how good natured and well meant.

'But then again, what others do and don't is their business and theirs alone.'

"…and their three eldest are juniors this year. You might meet them. I heard that they only keep to themselves. I wonder why, they seemed like such a nice family…and so polite too." She seemed to ponder at that fact before pressing on, "They're actually close by, through the woods, a couple miles out in fact. I guess you could say that they'd be your neighbors."

Then again people like her were useful, in spite of their obliviousness situational information gathering that he was capitalizing on. Harry's respect and or need for other's privacy had been greatly dampened during his time on the frontlines. He learned, through some rather costly lessons, that there was no such thing as privacy during times of conflict. So he knew how to take advantage of a situation and surreptitiously milk the informant for all they were worth.

Not that it really mattered in a place like Forks. He had no qualms about nosing around in the gossip mill here. Mostly that was because there wasn't really anything of worth other than local knowledge. Also they weren't in a civil war of their own making, spilling each other's blood over some semantic ideals of blood and purity. This place was…clean, and he meant to keep it that way.

Harry obviously didn't know how things worked here. He knew the basics to get around, but that was hardly enough for him to carve an existence here. With a mental shrug, he decided to ignore the neighbors bit. If he had his way, they wouldn't even know he existed.

"Juniors?"

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. I forgot. You attended one of those boarding school things didn't you? I don't know how our systems would compare to yours, hmm. Let me explain ours to you. You see…"

The teen rolled his eyes behind the glasses but listened in anyways. It was actually quite informative. Perhaps he'd tour the school after they finalized the paperwork. He refused to get lost on the first day, memories of his first year at Hogwarts haunted him enough as was. He didn't need any new ones to dwell on while he was here, especially since he was trying to forget everything else.

It wasn't long after that they reached the real estate offices. Harry was quite surprised at how well he had been educated on the return. He'd have to revise his opinion of the normal populace after all. He'd underestimated them again, he thought rather dryly.

It was only when they came to the latter stages of the paperwork that things became a little awkward…for the realtor. Not that it could be helped. Any decent, sensible person would have found themselves in the same situation.

"So I'll need you to take these to your guardian and have them sign, here, here, and…"

"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't have a guardian."

"But you're under aged." She gasped, shocked that this boy had no one.

"I assure you I'm legal. My emancipation has already been approved, so I'm an adult in the eyes of the law."

"I'm sorry, forgive my intrusion." The realtor backpedaled, "It's just unusual."

A sardonic smiled graced his lips, "I gathered that, so I came prepared today with all my documentation."

With a small flourish, Harry produced the file he'd prepared the evening before. It was filled to the brim with the documents, but neatly and nicely organized. From then on it was simply a matter of signing and filling in the blanks. There had been a mild snag when the question of insurance came up. However, it was soon smoothed over as she helped him set up an account with a local agency. By the end, Harry found himself the proud owner of his first home, and the realtor congratulated herself on a completed job.

Both chatted genially a bit before bidding each other good bye. They rose out of their seats at the same time and shook hands over the desk, sealing their business dealings.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, ."

"Likewise."

She watched the teen go with mixed emotions. The boy made her curious, there was so much potential gossip to be had from him, but professional courtesy had her reframing from such…undignified behavior.

The agent then shrugged. Business was business. Besides, she now had a bit of news to share with the ladies down at the salon.

* * *

"_Harry, do you know what this is for?" _

_Said sixteen year old just raised an eye brow in question, all the while searching for anything that would give him an excuse to slip away. It seemed Lady Luck decided to have tea at that moment, because Harry was, well, trapped._

_Currently a multi-colored necklace made from an assortment of brightly colored string and odd knick-knacks was dangling dangerously close to his person. He'd been dodging the thing like the plague, and now he'd been cornered by the dreamy eyed giver. _

_Not that he'd had anything against the girl. In fact, he had nothing but respect for her. And she had become one of his closest friends during all the bloodshed. Her just being herself helped keep him grounded when he thought his grief would overwhelm him._

"_No, and I don't want to know." _

_She kept on talking as if she hadn't heard him. "It'll keep the snorglehops away from your brain. They float through the air, you see, and crawl into people's ears to nest. So now you won't have to dance around trying to keep them away."_

"_Ok…" Harry wasn't too sure about it, after all it looked like a arts and crafts project gone horribly wrong. But Luna never did something without cause, so perhaps he'd wear it…just not where others could see. _

"_And, what's this for?" He said motioning to the small, white, glass flower she attached to his shirt pocket. It seemed...odd. The shape wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before. _

"_It's a Moon Drop for good luck, silly." The smaller girl giggled lightly. "It'll keep the Nitwicks away. They quite nasty you know." _

_Harry eyed the glass flower. It seemed relatively harmless and innocent. However, when he looked up at his friend and companion again, he dreamy eyes were looking away as a sad expression crossed her features. _

_When she met his eyes again, her features held none of the faraway look he had come to expect from her. Her eyes were sharp with awareness, intelligence, and knowledge, but what concerned him the most was the look of infinite sorrow in her silver eyes._

"_Keep it with you always. It will protect you and bring you luck. Whatever you do, don't take it off, even if you don't wear the necklace." _

"_Wha-"_

"_Promise me…please." _

_He was torn with indecision. Luna had never spoken to him in such a straightforward manner. In fact she always looked dreamy and faraway for as long as he knew her. He had always trusted her decisions, and he trusted her now…because she was asking him to._

"_I promise." _

_A breathtaking smile graced her lips as she made to leave his tent. She looked compassionately upon his confused and somewhat frightened features. How she wished she could reassure him with sweet promises of a brighter future. But this was the best she could do. _

"_Thank you." and then her dreamy smile and far away look returned, "And now, I have a flock of fluttering flugswhips to prepare for. Good night Harry!!" _

_And with that the mysterious blonde was gone. Harry stared blankly at the necklace in his hand and then looked at the flower attached to his breast pocket. What had she meant? Luna had always been a bit strange, but then again, she had always been right as well. _

_He didn't know what to think, but something in his gut tightened. She wasn't telling him goodbye…was she? _

_He threw the odd necklace over his battle robes and tucked the flower more firmly to his breast. He had promised her, who had never asked anything of him but friendship, and he'd be damned if he couldn't keep just one request._

_In the pre-dawn hours a group of deatheaters and other darker abominations took them by surprise. Half of the camp was burned. He had been lucky to escape the inferno. And by the time they regrouped for a counterattack, the marauders were gone. _

_Later that morning Harry buried Luna's body along side the other graves, she had been the last of his friends. It was the last time he'd allowed himself to cry._

* * *

_:Tsudzuku: _

* * *

A/N: ((hangs head in shame) I tried…Truly I did…But, I couldn't help myself. I just had to post this (cries)…Sigh, I wanted to post this on Saturday but I just couldn't resist (mourns terrible self control))

First of all, thank you all reviewers, I'm flattered that you've taken an interest in fict, truly. I've really never had such an enormous response to, well, any of my stories before. And as much as I'd love to answer a few questions, I'll have to leave you in suspense for the time being. I am keeping note though, so they will be answered sometime in this fict.

To all moped lovers, as much as I dearly want to give Harry one, I just don't think it would work for this fict. Though I do agree that it would be hilarious and embarrassing as hell… (Can you imagine him putting into school on a dinky little moped (and honking an annoyingly high pitched horn) or racing (and winning) against the Cullen's shiny silver car…with Edward driving?)

Oh, before I forget, none of my stuff is beta-ed. I do try and triple check everything, but some mistakes just escape my notice. Hopefully it isn't too glaring.

Question: Why does everyone (or just about) describe Harry in the effeminate sense? I know authors want to make him visually appealing, I get that, but why do a majority of them (for Pete's sake) make him all girly, ditzy, and giggly?

Echo 1/22/09


	4. The Best Way to Die

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory　　

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer　　

* * *

Chapter 4: The Best Way to Die

* * *

The school was…nothing like he'd expected. Nothing at all.

Even when he attended primary it had a vastly different feel from the atmosphere to the setting. He honestly couldn't imagine what the student body was like either.

The floor plan, well, floored him. There was no protection from the elements, at least not the kind of protection he was used to from Hogwarts. There wasn't a fence or any means to guard the safety of the students. It certainly didn't have anything that would prevent some students from sneaking out and ditching.

Though, he supposed, that would be a mote point since everyone knew each other here anyways. And if a student was caught ditching, well, there wouldn't be any mercy period.

He supposed it was a typical educational layout for the American school system. Separate buildings housing their specialties. It was…practical. At the very least he knew where each subject was by general vicinity of said buildings.

The cafeteria at least looked familiar, though it wasn't meant to house students months on end for three meals a day. But then again, there were only so many different ways to differentiate a place for dining.

But what really got to him was the openness of it all. Just walking from building to building he could count a dozen ways for an ambush to be set up. On some locations he could get a clear shot without even having to twitch an inch.

While his tour guide was babbling on about this and that, Harry's mind was taking a completely different direction. He was already mapping the halls for strategic points should he need to disappear and avoid others. He already had a majority of the floor layout memorized and was analyzing escape routes as well as possible paths for classes.

Considering it wasn't a very large campus, it was somewhat surprising that he was able to create so many options. But then again, when a soldier is conditioned by fighting and to analyze even the most basic locations, it becomes an inevitable reflex.

"And here is our science department." The school head proudly announced, drawing Harry's attention to her before taking in the plain building. "This is where we house our labs. And we have the latest equipment furnished as well, our students aren't lacking for anything. We try to provide as many opportunities for the best education as we can."

"I see."

"Would you like a tour of the building or do you have any questions I could answer?"

"No thank you. About my schooling…?"

"Ah, yes, we'll be heading to my office afterwards to discuss which subjects would suit you best." She said this with a smile, whereas Harry had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew he forgot something and now he remembered why.

How was he going to sound anything close to intelligent when his formal education stopped at the primary level? It wasn't an aspect he'd completely thought out yet. For all his planning, sometimes he'd forgotten certain details.

"Oh don't worry dear," the principle warmly reassured him, mistaking his silent acceptance for nervous shyness. She cheerfully began leading him back towards the office building, completely missing the rapidly paling skin of the teen. "We'll have it all figured out in no time."

* * *

He knew he should have been used to the astonished expressions by now, but truly it never failed to make him uncomfortable when he brought up something that he believed was normal and, well, was quite the opposite. Proof of that was sitting across from him doing a rather excellent impression of a caught fish.

"I had thought you'd been taught these subjects?"

To say the last fifteen minutes had been enlightening would have been an understatement of epic proportions. And if it wasn't so serious, Harry'd have been roaring with laughter at all the people he floored here.

"At my boarding school, they focused on an entirely…different set of curriculum. They were more of a…trade school."

"And what exactly did they believe to accomplish with their graduates if they were not provided with a decent education."

"It had a more…specialized focus. Usually most of the alumni found jobs the moment they graduated."

"I see." the school director frowned, "what were your areas of interest, if I may enquire?"

Harry's mind went conveniently blank at that moment as he froze. Of course she had to ask that question and it caused him to flounder. He really should have drilled the Realtor for more information on the schooling and the studies they provided. It was a rookie oversight on his part.

'_How __**would**__ you phrase combat, dismemberment, and assassination in academically acceptable terms?'_

"I believe they would be the equivalent of your biological sciences, anatomy and physiological studies…and physical education."

"And what kind of future were you hoping to achieve with those studies?"

At that he shrugged. He hadn't really thought about what to do once everything was over. In fact he hadn't thought he'd live this long either.

"I don't know, they were the subjects I excelled in and was therefore put in the programs suitable for them. Options were never really discussed with me."

The academic adviser just stared. She was beyond shocked. There were trade schools that helped certain students in different areas of interest, she knew, but to be academically ignorant as well with a focus only on certain subjects?

"If that was the case, then why did you apply to a general educational institution if yours was suited to your needs?"

"Madam, there was a terrorist cell led by one of England's most wanted serial killers targeting my school and the surrounding areas, it wasn't until this last year that the authorities were able to…apprehend the perpetrators. I could safely say my schooling had been greatly compromised."

"I would like to start anew if you don't mind. I had realized that my education was severely lacking and that if I wanted a future, I needed to be a more…well-rounded student. And quite frankly, your general institution is quite intimidating actually. But in the very least it is not compromised."

"Remedial courses, tutoring, and open periods would probably be best for you until we get you caught up. I might also suggest summer school." The director of Forks High School looked thoughtful, "The only problem with that is we don't offer remedial courses here since we are such a small school. Perhaps accelerated courses and independent study? I'll see what I can arrange. Maybe Irene, our librarian, would be willing to take you in during those times. She's a wonder with the written language. We'll need you to be S.A.T. and A.C.T. ready by winter break."

"The entrance test as well as the graduation test. Let's not forget the W.A.S.L. testing and A.P. as well." She spoke thoughtfully.

Harry on the other had was becoming slightly fidgety as the number of different tests began grow. He revised his opinion of non-magical education right then and there. They definitely had the harder schooling.

"May I ask, why are there so many tests?"

"For transcripts, colleges and scholarships. State requirements and collegiate acceptance. If you do well on any one test, you will be recognized and sought after by may prestigious institutions. It will help you acceptance into the colleges and universities."

"I still believe we should at lest put you in a few classes for your year. That way you can get a feel for the curriculum and know the current material. I believe there is a month or so left before school, I'll see what reading materials are required and print you a list. That way you'll be current in that regard."

"I'll have to ask that you see a counselor for your studies progress at least once a month, if not every other week. That way we can monitor your progress and assess your readiness for the tests that will begin in the spring semester. I'll have to arrange something with the teachers in the required courses, though."

"Um…"

"Yes?"

"Why would you do so much for one student?" He was beyond nervous at all the extra measures they were going through. He just knew that this was not normal for any educational institution. He hated special treatment of any kind, the Wizarding World gave that enough, whether negative or positive, to him to make him sick for a lifetime. Also special attention meant that one was watched more closely, though, he supposed wryly, he was a special case.

"It's the duty of all educators to make sure their students receive what they deserve. It's the least I could do." And then she smiled a bit with amusement, "and there isn't much else to do here at the moment."

At Harry's blank expression she laughed. "Don't worry dear, nothing ever happens here in Forks. You should have a nice and quiet time. The mornings are so peaceful."

* * *

"_Harry," a soft Irish brogue spoke into the darkness. From his cot across the tent, the last Potter turned his head. It seemed that his tent mate wasn't able to sleep either._

"_Hmm?" _

"_Are you afraid?" _

_Harry furrowed his brow. What was Seamus on about? _

"_Of what?" _

"_Tomorrow." _

"_Why would I be?" _

"_Because tomorrow we might have to fight...again." _

"_There's always a chance of that." _

"_I know." The lilting Irish voice softened, "I just don't want to bury anyone else." _

"_When this war ends, we won't have to." _

_The silence stretched peacefully between them as they luxuriated in each other's company. They had gotten to know each other well over the course of the last year. And it was enough. It had to be. Both had watched as those around them fell one by one. They also had to dig the shallow graves after the battles. _

_It was then Harry noticed that many of the surviving veterans developed quirks. Harry loved wearing a set of sunglasses instead of his spectacles. Luna, well, had always been a bit quirky, but had added turnip and cork bracelets to her unusual usual dress. And Seamus...had a strange fixation with the color orange. He always had to have something orange on his person._

"_You know Harry, you need to lighten up some. Get yourself some color or something, black makes you look all vampirish." _

_"You just want me to wear those ugly socks of yours?"_

"_They're my lucky pair, I'll have you know." _

"_Right." _

"_You have to have strength and skill to wear such a powerful color." Seamus fingered his wand threateningly though the action was offset by the comical look on his face, taking away any seriousness that might have been. _

_Harry snorted. Trust Seamus to bring a smile to his face with the most ridiculous excuses he had in the darkest of times. Even though he was a bit random at times. Then again, he always seemed to have a sixth sense about things like that. He was always there to lighten the mood. And then there were the rare occasions that he became introspective. Usually he became such when he took time to study his wand. He always got this far off look in his eyes when he did. Just like he had now._

"_You know, my Gran'da made my wand for." Harry turned to look at the other teen startled. As open as Seamus seemed, he rarely talked about anything related to himself._

"_You're joking, really?" _

"_Cross my heart. Haven't you ever wondered why it was different from the others?" _

"_I just thought it was the same as everyone else's from Ollivader's." A well aimed pillow smacked Harry's head. Harry chucked it back in the general direction of the other male._

"_Have a look." _

_And he did. Harry lit a small lamp and gently took his friend's wand. He had to admit, it was a beauty. The runes etchings ran up and down the sides, but a sparkling glint caught his eye. When he tilted the grip, Harry caught sight of a beautiful citrine stone embedded in the bottom. The fiery orange sparked in the light. _

"_It's beautiful." He handed it back appreciatively. _

"_Yeah," the teen looked at it thoughtfully, "this is how I want to die." He twirled it in his fingers, "With this thing in my hand."_

"_That actually sounds very romantic, Seamus." He raised a brow at the Irish teen, "are you sure you're alright?" _

_Another well aimed pillow smacked him in the head._

"_Shut it Potter_."

* * *

'_This is madness!'_

That was the only thought running through Harry's mind as he stared at the bustling parking lot. It was pure and utter chaos and he wondered how the students avoided running each other over with their cars as teens darted in and out of parking spaces.

It had been an interesting last month he'd spent that summer. His time was divided between studying his summer reading list, shopping for essentials, and trying to fix up his humble abode. The last of which was frustrating him to no end.

However he was learning something new everyday. He just wished he hadn't forgotten the tiny fact as to why his style of magic didn't work on the American continents. It was a rather painful lesson to learn.

Magic as he was taught either backfired or had some…unexpected results, or even backfired with unexpected results. As he could now testify when he'd tried to use a simple cleaning charm in the kitchen and, well, backfired. Now his kitchen water facet was…alive for lack of a better term. The bloody thing bit him and then had the nerve to growl at him on top of that.

He hadn't any tea that morning.

Not one for literature, Harry had found it surprising when the books caught his interest. Perhaps it was because they were so varied, maybe it was because they drastically different to normal criteria, or maybe it was because there was at least on thing each author pointed out that just spoke to him, was relative to him.

He supposed that if this was what his schooling was going to be like, he might just have to put merit behind Hermione's love for academia. But then again, he looked at the students, maybe not.

He watched wide-eyed as teenagers maneuvered their vehicles between the painted lines, all the while expecting for the inevitable to happen. The spots were too narrow and the older vans and rusty looking vehicles seemed too large and bulky.

Even Uncle Vernon, with his one car and entire driveway, couldn't have performed such feats. It would have been a miracle for him to even make it into the parking lot without hitting a dozen students in the process.

And yet, somehow, they all managed to fit just fine with nary a scratch to show for their efforts. Secretly disappointed that his silent predictions of doom-an-gloom hadn't come true, the war weary teen decided that it was time. The chaos had hit a lull and it seemed safe enough to leave his observation point.

Harry shook his head wryly. He still had much to learn about the world outside and if his first day at school would be anything like he witnessed in the parking lot, it would be interesting indeed. Not that his actions were helping any.

Really, who would hide in the nearby trees and spy on the student body? He mentally snorted, a paranoid, near psychotic, tortured, war scarred veteran soldier that's who. One who'd just lived through the magical version of Gettysburg, Normandy, Stalingrad, Thermopylae and Waterloo all in the space of two years.

Harry was actually wondering if he wasn't better off just not attending here. He could just as easily attend the university in Seattle. It probably would have been the wiser choice if he hadn't settled for the rundown lot he now called home. The commute alone would have killed him.

If he were to be honest with himself though, Seattle had two major demerits against it. The first was the population. Harry would never be able to rest around so many people. He had just come from a war zone and was hyper aware of everything around him. Small things set him off and he was finding ingrained habits were becoming a problem.

The second was that it was close to a magical community. Not one large enough to be of any note, but it was too close to his person to be comfortable. Magic had become both an gift and a curse to him, the curse becoming more prevalent as his attitude became darker over the years and the war had literally torn everything and everyone he valued away from him.

About ready to abandon his position in favor of claiming his class schedule form the office, Harry's departure delayed when the most out of place vehicle he'd ever seen drove up. From his position he could make out that there were four people in the car and he was just about to dismiss them as children who have wealthy parents when the vehicle smoothly rolled into a lot and the passengers exited.

He stared. Harry really couldn't help it. There was something that just made him want to stare. And as a blonde, aristocratic looking beauty stepped gracefully out of the shiny, red convertible with an air that was befitting the Queen of England, he couldn't stop the first thought that popped into his mind.

'_Malfoy?!'_

No, no Malfoy was dead. And there was no way he could even look that good…or that feminine. Even on his hair gel less days. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that the figure he spotted was in the very least a female. Woman or teenage girl he couldn't distinguish.

Even with that said, he didn't even try to stop the following thought when three others took their cue to leave. Each had the same type of predatory grace and same regal airs thought the blonde female was by far the most aristocratic.

'_A family of Malfoys.'_

He was too far to make out any distinguishing features other than hair color and clothing. His eyesight might have forcibly been improved during the war, but he was only slightly under the average and nowhere near hawk-eyed.

His warning senses hadn't gone off either. Perhaps it was because he was too far away from the student populace for it to activate…which didn't really make much sense to him. The last two instances he had the month before, he was quite sure that there was a far amount of distance between himself and the presences. His senses hadn't dulled that much.

Perhaps it was the land interfering? The different nexus and eddies that swirled around Forks meant that it wouldn't have too far from the realm of possibilities. Some could damper his magical attributes and others could magnify them to near supernatural proportions.

Bah. It didn't matter really. It didn't bother him in the least…or he desperately hoped it didn't.

Deciding he'd wasted enough time here and that there was no immediate threat, the ex-soldier made his way out of the tree he was currently perched on. No sense in being late when it could be prevented.

He just looked at the school and cringed a bit. Now, how to avoid being in those crowded halls without being too obvious?

He began planning an elaborate trip to the office completely disregarding the parking lot and its inhabitants, figuring he'd seen enough. Harry missed the silver Volvo that pulled into the lot next to the red corvette.

* * *

"Did you see him anywhere?" Alice was bouncing in excitement. She couldn't wait to meet the new student. Her sister however didn't share her enthusiasm. Jasper and Emmett just seemed amused by the entire situation.

"No, and what's so special about this guy anyways."

"You guys know he could be running late." Emmett put in. After all, they were early. Rosalie, grumpy at having to leave as early as Alice made them and then annoyed her in particular until she agreed to drive, glared at her sister.

"Are you sure you vision was correct?"

"Yes, he's got to be here. It'll be so fun to go shopping with him."

"I doubt that love."

"Who's not here?" Ah, the missing Cullen.

"Oh, Edward you're here."

"Why'd you leave without me his morning and who were you talking about?"

"Because…we wanted to and no one in particular. Bye guys!!" Edward turned to Rosalie, annoyed. Grumpy as she was, the blonde was in no mood to be anywhere near accommodating.

"Don't brood at me, I'm not saying a word."

"Ja-"

"He's already left." Emmett cut him off, entirely too amused by the entire scene that was being made.

"Coward."

"Whatever."

"Rosalie…"

"No. Emmett, let's go."

"But…"

"_Good__**bye**__ Edward."_

* * *

Harry had blankly stared at the sheet of paper that was supposedly his schedule. He had the expected three core classes, but more than a few open periods. He supposed that's when he reported to the librarian and assigned tutors for his subjects.

He had spoken with the school director and they had agreed to start out in catching him up to an acceptable level for the various tests that were taking place this year. The math would be hard of that he had no doubt. As well as the various required histories. There were also the sciences, but he supposed that the subject might not be as difficult as potions and herbology, both of which weren't his strong points.

Harry let out a miniscule sigh. He was being tutored in everything, so he supposed it wouldn't hurt to learn what it is they had to teach him.

And here he was now, handing the paperwork for his English teacher, Mr. Thomas, to peruse. Luckily the man had enough sense to not inquire beyond what he was informed of. For that Harry's respect of the professionalism of the staff he'd encountered so far, was growing. What he wouldn't have given to have teachers who didn't care one whit of whether or not he was famous, a celebrity, or a savior.

"Mr. Hunter, I'm afraid the only seat left is in the back." The teacher frowned looking at his seating chart, "next to Miss…Hale." He pointed in the direction of the same blonde Harry had noticed in the parking lot. With a nod he took the paperwork and made to leave for the seat.

"Oh, and Mr. Hunter." Harry turned and regarded the man, "Your sunglasses young man."

Without a word, the teen fished out a note from his pant pocket and handed it the teacher. The man looked at it in surprise and then at him.

"They're prescription."

"I see." Mr. Thomas handed back the note, "Very well, Mr. Hunter. Please take your assigned seat and we can begin."

Silently thanking the teacher, the ex-soldier began picking his way through the various backpacks and legs of students. It was rather hard. When he did look up, Harry found the iciest pair of amber shaded eyes he'd ever seen.

The blonde gave him a piercing look before turning away and making a point of ignoring him, like he wasn't worth her time. Inwardly Harry mildly annoyed at the clear dismissal but said nothing. Whatever got her goat wasn't his problem.

He really wasn't looking for any trouble. So in true form, Harry returned the favored and didn't acknowledge her presence either. She wasn't worth his time anyways. Gracefully he slid into the seat and prepared for the lesson that day.

It wasn't like he was ready to make any kind of attachments, be they friendly or romantic. He was just here to learn and make something of the rest of his ever shortening existence. With that in mind, he turned his attention to the syllabus that was just handed back and ignored the students around him.

After all, it wasn't like he'd be around for much longer anyways. Harry failed to notice the tickling sensation on the edge of his senses.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: Wow!! The reviews blew me away, thank you everyone!! As for the beta offer, thank you but I'll have to re-frame for now.

Alright, there's two reviewers I need to address because, I'm sorry, but you made me crack up so badly. About the Styrofoam being heated in microwave, you know that, I know that, but does Harry know that you're not supposed to heat stuff up in there?

And speaking of semantics about romanji of all things (which is inaccurate anyways), sigh, I know you mean well. Go to any Japanese translation dictionary and see if my spelling is not valid, I triple checked it. I'll just change it to Hiragana if it continues to be a bother.

**Recognition: Unexpected Awakenings by Rhiw** (the entire orange tribute scene)

Finally!! A question I can answer!! About the ambient magic (I.E. Wild America(s)) (ahem):

It's all about the plate tectonics and fault lines. Pull up any map and you'll see that Great Britain is located on the Eurasian Plate, and thus has no fault lines. The Americas on the other hand, the west coast especially, have mucho action going on. There is no way magic or any kind of ambient energy has had any chance to settle. Also national parks that have dormant super volcanoes under them and the continents are littered with ancient meteor strike sites.

So…no, places like Hogwarts and Diagon Alley (or even Azkaban) wouldn't be able to be built. They need anchor points in magic. And because the earth repels artificial anchor points (like magnets), it just won't be possible…And if you still don't get it, think of the American continents as one big Bermuda triangle for magic. European foci and styles will short circuit and thus the wizards and witches will be, well, in trouble. So the wizarding world is magically blind, hence their disdain for the 'New World'.

As to why: European magic subjugates the ambient magic within the earth, drawing life from it like mosquitoes do blood (or leeches, ticks, fleas, bats, etc…take your pick I could go on with the analogies). It's harmful and killing the land…though they never think of the consequences (magic is magic, derr). That's the reason why wandless magic is so rare and hard to use. There isn't enough magic in the ground because centuries of wizards and witches have sucked the life from it.

*A word of advice, what I _don't_ say while explaining is just as important as what I do.*

Echo 1/29/09


	5. Brevan's Civil War

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 5: Brevan's Civil War

* * *

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that _**all men are created equal**__**.**_

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that _this_ nation, _**under God**_, shall have a new birth of freedom-and that government _**of the people, by the people, for the people**__**,**_ shall not perish from the earth."

**-The Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln-**

* * *

_The raspy breathing was all he could make out as he blindly stumbled his way up the steps. It was a moment before Harry realized it was his own. There was a gurgling quality to it that he would have picked up if he was more attentive. _

_His lungs burned. And Harry was desperately gasping for air as he felt like he was drowning. Lacerations all through his torso and upper body were prevalent in all their shredded glory. The hole through his right lung gushed blood._

_Harry was nothing more than a walking wraith, his robes in tatters, the smell of smoke, blood and death clung to him like a cloud. He was barely hanging on to consciousness. _

_Blood dripped down his arm and into his hand which was clenching a battered piece of parchment tightly. He had to deliver this last request. He had to. _

_Harry dropped, clutching the bloodied, dirty envelope to his chest like a lifeline. He was going to make damned sure that it arrived. _

_His vision blurred as darkness invaded along the edges. _

'_**No!' **_

_He jerked himself up, forcing himself up the final step and rang the door bell. He promised! He had to keep it. _

_When the old Victorian door opened, a stately, elderly woman came into view. She eyed him with suspicion. _

"_Who are you? What do you want?" _

_He ignored the question trying to focus on her face, to see if she resembled his dear friend any. His vision was wavering dangerously. _

"_Are you Gran?" _

_A look of confusion crossed her features. He supposed it was because he was badly slurring his words as speaking was becoming too much of a chore. He was trying to stay awake, but it was becoming harder with his eyelids feeling like they weighed hundreds of kilos. Before the lady could speak again, Harry jabbed the bloody mail into her face, swaying slightly. _

"_I was asked to deliver this to you." _

_With that his vision blacked out. Not hearing the startled cry as he fell inside the doorway._

* * *

He tried to ignore the stare. At the very least he was able to pretend like it didn't bother him and his observer certainly wasn't shy about hiding their curiosity.

He really shouldn't have been as self conscious as he was feeling. He was a war veteran, as soldier…a monster. His past was bathed in the blood of many. He had been through situations that would have made anyone's hair curl. Staring should_** not**_ have been an issue.

And yet it was. It bothered him greatly in fact. It was most likely a hold over from his younger years that he never completely rid himself of.

Harry had never liked attention. Not once had it ever really given anything good. From his relatives it was abuse, both verbal and physical. From his adoring public (a term he used _very_ loosely), it was suffocating and demanding. And from those he let close enough to his person, he found heartache and expectations.

He wasn't a messiah come to save the magical world. He definitely wasn't a prophet and he certainly was no hero. He didn't want to be.

He was what they made him to be; a killing machine, assassin…destroyer. In battle he was a juggernaut of power and if pushed, a berserk-er. That had only happened once and it was a memory he'd rather not have.

But that's what the expectations held for him. And they were heavy indeed.

Glancing out of the corner of his glasses, as much as the view allowed, he caught his neighbor studying him. For all her cold dismissal earlier, he was sure she wasn't the least bit interested in him. But as always he seemed to attract attention wherever he went.

Harry valiantly withheld the urge to sigh in exasperation. He wasn't_ that_ interesting. In fact he never understood the interest others invested in him. He'd purposefully made himself as boring as he could and had chosen some of his covert ops clothing (covert by the standards of the magical world which would be considered civilian by any of the non-magical world special ops, something he could agree on). In them were enchantments that not only made the clothing everyone's dream in terms of upkeep, but also to divert attention away from his person as long as he didn't do anything to obvious.

The only ones it didn't completely affect were magical beings and, well, dead people. It didn't really help in the magical environment of England, though if one valued their lives, they wouldn't even suggest a thought around the other witches and wizards.

The only part of his wardrobe that he refused to switch out were his sunglasses. He needed them if he was to have some semblance of a peaceful existence while he stayed here in Forks. His expressions were much harder to read and he didn't have to deal with the tiresome comments about his eye color. He doubted eyes like his were common or normal. Besides, the glasses gave him an air of unaffected coolness that just could not be matched.

Thankfully the teacher seemed to be oblivious to the back of the class. Seeing that the man was suitable occupied, Harry turned to his neighbor and glared. He didn't appreciate attention and he didn't really want to talk to her either.

The surprised look that flashed across her features, made him smirk in satisfaction. It disappeared just as quickly when his glare was returned. It seemed she didn't appreciate the sentiment. Well, two could play at that game.

Whatever.

He wasn't there to make friends. Making a show of blatantly ignoring the blonde, he turned his head in an effort to look like he was listening to the teacher go over the syllabus. His chin was tilted in a superior holier-than-thou fashion and angled his shoulder in a slow, calculated movement, slightly showing his back to her.

Harry made a show of looking over his green sheet and appearing attentive. He felt ridiculously pleased when the glare began burning into his back. He had been aware of the faint tickling on his senses as they grew in intensity with the attention paid to him by his neighbor. His fighting senses hadn't kicked in so there wasn't a threat to his person at the moment. It was different from the other two he'd identified though it did have a similar feel.

He glanced at his neighbor (who was still boring holes into his head). Apparently she was the source.

Interesting.

He'd have to see what else he learned. For now though, he really needed to pay attention. At least this year wouldn't be boring.

* * *

Rosalie was curious. She would never admit it though.

She wasn't overt about it either, nor was she as…_exuberant_ as most of the student populace when it came to curiosity being satisfied. She was just unobtrusive about it.

But there just a few things that didn't add up with the picture they'd heard, what Alice described and what she was seeing. Normally she wouldn't have cared one way or another since he was, well, mortal and human. And he was probably like all the other teenaged males that infested the campus. But when he entered the class, she did notice and that made all the difference in the world. With her sharpened senses and long life she was able to pick up on nuances that shouldn't have been there in the first place.

The way he walked, or rather prowled down the isles. There was also the way he held himself with a straighter posture, almost militaristic. And his muscles were somewhat loosely coiled and action ready. The very air he was a different quality all together. It was both dangerous and melancholic, well hidden under a guise of indifference.

It was just the little things so small that most wouldn't give them a second glance, well most humans anyways. However when added up together, the picture changed. And he became and intriguing puzzle on contradictions and inconsistencies.

Outwardly he looked just like any other cool punk, only without the excess jewelry and tastefully dressed. And he was clothed in darker colors that allowed him to blend and be easily dismissed. He was unnoticeable.

As for the glasses (which admittedly looked striking on him), she just knew that Oakley didn't carry prescription in that style. She might not be as fashion savvy as Alice, but she certainly knew her brands, especially when she had been looking into style that would suit Emmett.

His demeanor was different from what she expected. It was also familiar, which unsettled and intrigued her, she just couldn't put her finger on it.

She was more than surprised when he turned and gave her a cold glare (how he pulled it off with those sunglasses was a mystery to her). It seemed he was more aware of his surroundings than she had even him credit for. He shouldn't have noticed her subtle glances.

However that thought was put aside when he challenged her non-verbally. She would not stand for that and so returned the glare with equal force.

Of course the punk had the nerve to dismiss her to her face. Now she was mad.

No one dismissed her like she was nothing. The vampire glared at the British teen. This was war. As if in answer to her silent thoughts, the annoyance turned his head slightly and smirked.

Let the games begin.

* * *

Harry groaned into the book his face was now buried in, literally. His brain was falling out of his head.

Annoying classmates was all well and good, but it took more energy than he was willing to part with. He'd have to find other ways to entertain himself when his mind wondered.

Faintly the edges of his magical senses were tickled alerting him to a disturbance headed his way. Instantly he dismissed it as a non-threat. He wasn't in an active war-zone so he didn't need to be paranoid. If nothing had happened to him or the other students then he didn't need to be on complete alert. And his mental muscles were hurting something awful.

Unlike most teenagers though, it wasn't torture for Harry when it came to learning. In fact there were many subjects that piqued his interest. It was the sheer quantity of subject matter that he had to cram.

Thankfully most of his educators agreed to start him at the high school level since his understanding and maturity were well above those of elementary and junior high material. And since the material was more or less an in depth review of the last six years of education, it made sense. However as he did not have the native advantage when it came to learned knowledge of the Americas histories, Harry would struggle invariably until he was somewhat caught up. After all the A.P. (Advanced Placement) tests would be coming up and he had to be proficient enough to pass.

On top of that, teachers had tried pulling some of the top students in different subjects to tutor him. Fortunately he was saved from the inevitable embarrassment when only one turned up. American History and Government would probably be more entertaining than just reading a text book and taking notes.

It was agreed upon, though, that his math skills were fairly weak as were the biological sciences. So Harry found much of his focus on the subjects. And part of the reason why he was nursing a numb mind.

His brain functions had shut down somewhere between second and third period. Those were English and math respectively. So he did what any sane person would do, he face planted into a book, groaned and then attempted to catch a few 'z's' in hopes that one of two things would happen. The first was that he'd magically absorb the knowledge of said book, and the second was that he'd jumpstart his mind before he went home and crashed.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I." a cultured, amused voice cut through his thoughts. Harry didn't even bother to lift his head from where he planted it. Exertion of any kind was too much work, so he just replied as was. His voice was muffled in his attempt at communication. Thankfully his visitor could clearly make out what he was saying.

"Just my communing with the books time, you know, learning through osmosis."

"Oh, does it work?"

"I'll let you know," Giving up on his impromptu nap, the British teen picked his head up long enough to get a look at the owner of the bothersome voice. After sizing him up, the wizard promptly dismissed the other youth as a non-threat. "Are you my tutor?"

"Indeed, Jasper Hale."

"Hale…why does that sound familiar?" Harry pondered a bit before dismissing the thought. He really didn't care.

"Brevan Hunter." He replied curtly, "Now if you'll excuse me I have to commune with my textbook." and with a dull thud began studying the inside of his eyelids.

Jasper, for his part, was caught between chuckling and frowning for two completely opposite reasons. The chuckling at the other's antics which were light hearted something that was hard to come by with all the juvenile drama they had to deal with…and Edward. The frowning however was the sense of familiarity he felt. It made him cautious. Also there was the distinct lack of bloodlust he normally felt when around humans.

He could hear the other's heartbeat. And he could smell the blood flowing through those veins. But his vampiric instincts seemed to be missing. It was odd.

He felt at ease with the other boy as well. That...was not normal.

But he was scheduled here for a reason. So, ever being the efficient one, Jasper got to work. As if sensing that, Harry groaned. It looked like he would get a break after all.

"You're not going to leave are you?"

"Would you like to learn this on your own?"

"No."

"Well then, let's get started."

A groan of pain sounded in the quiet space of the library. The librarian just glanced bemusedly toward the pair, not bothering to quiet the teen. He humored her.

She left the duo alone to their devices. They weren't being disrespectful to her books and they really weren't disturbing anyone. As for the pained sounds, they were bound to happen throughout the year anyways. She went back to cataloguing her newest acquisitions.

* * *

The bell rang for lunch, signaling the end of their time together. Jasper started gathering his things when he noticed that his companion hardly twitched a muscle from his spot. The vampire decided to take a chance. After all, how many people could he honestly be around without having to be tortured by the scent of their blood?

Maybe it was a British thing?

"Do you eat?" Harry arched a brow at this.

"I do." realizing how his question sounded, Jasper hastily continued (he would have been blushing if he could). It was embarrassing; perhaps all the teenage slang was rubbing off on him after all.

"Would you like to join us at lunch?"

"Us?"

"My siblings and I."

It sounded nice. And if he were to admit to himself, he would like to go. If the rest were anything like Jasper, than he'd enjoy himself. However, going to eat meant entering the cafeteria which meant crowds, lots of stares, and having to deal with being accosted at every turn. All of which he was trying to avoid to the best of his ability. That way he figured trouble would be at a minimum and it was his best chances of leaving this place with minimal attachments at best.

"Wait a minute, Hale right?"

"Yes."

Now that Harry thought about it, he did have the same feeling around Jasper as he had with the girl in English. It was just a soft, almost feathery sensation on the edge of his senses. But unlike Rosalie's, Jasper's had a familiar tone to it. The teen couldn't place it now, but later he might…if he cared to look into it.

"Any relation to a Miss Hale?"

"Rosalie? She's my sister."

"Is that her name?" at the incredulous look he received, Harry shrugged, "the teacher only said her last name."

"I wondered why that name seemed so familiar." He looked at the blonde contemplatively, "Aside from the blonde hair I really don't see the relation."

At Jasper's raised brow he continued, "She scowls too much."

The vampire chuckled. Really, how many people would say that about Rosalie? _To her family no less?_ Most were dazzled by her beauty and intimidated by her ice queen attitude.

"Yeah, that sounds like her."

"Hnn, I'll have to decline this time. I have to catch up on this curriculum before I can break."

Jasper eyed the volumes of books. Even if Brevan was some kind of super genius, it still would take longer than a day to learn enough to be proficient for the tests.

"What will you do for meals then?"

Harry gave the other boy a strange look, not that he could see it, before answering. It wasn't like he was speaking of highly classified mission parameters or sensitive data. "I'll figure something out, don't worry."

"Alright." The vampire made to leave before glancing back one last time. The other teen still hadn't moved, seemingly intent on his paper.

"Will you be in study hall after school?"

Harry didn't bother glancing up from his essay, he didn't need eye contact for that. It strongly reminded Jasper of someone in his past though he couldn't put a finger on it. It had to be someone important if he could still vaguely remember.

"No, I have a few errands to run."

The blonde nodded uncaring if the teen could see it. "Until tomorrow then."

The wizard just nodded his acknowledgment. The library door slid shut leaving a near empty room and a single occupant.

Jasper for his part used his time alone to sort out his thoughts. He had assumed, rightly so, that this would be nothing short of torture. After all, his control was thin enough as was. But the entire experience was surreal and…pleasant.

Brevan Hunter.

In the short time he had spent with the younger male, Jasper had been intrigued, humored, and found camaraderie. Not the type of fellowship he experienced with his coven, but what he had back when he was alive and in the military. And he had never thought about how much he missed such interaction until now.

Back then Jasper had had close friends in which he could confide and just be. He was able to put aside the military officer and just act the youth of his age. It was refreshing.

The vampire didn't know if this acquaintance would come of anything. The blonde glanced over his shoulder. He would be willing to see. Perhaps he'd regain the piece of his humanity that he'd thought he lost.

* * *

The lunch tray slammed down on the table top with a bit more force than Edward intended. But it did its job in that everyone's attention was now on him. Jasper winced at the sound (and emotions). It seemed the eldest of the Cullen 'children' was still miffed about being left behind.

"Ok, spill. Why did you ditch me this morning?"

"Ditch? Why would we ever ditch you brother dearest?" Alice sweetly answered. Her eyes were wide and innocent.

"Don't make me read your minds."

"You won't." the clairvoyant sang, earning an even darker glare.

"Why else would we leave?" Emmett cut in, an amused look on his face, causing Edward to pause and consider his answer. It was only when his eyebrow started to twitch that any of the others knew he'd come to the most obvious conclusion.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Rosalie replied in a matter-of-fact tone. Edward sent her a dark glare.

"Right now I do."

"Stop whining, you could have caught up with us at any time."

"That's beside the point."

Alice batted her lashes, "But Edward, you love us anyways."

"Not right now."

"Meanie."

"I try." He gracefully took his seat, "so what did you see Alice that made you come rushing to school?"

"Nuh uh. I'm not telling."

"I know you saw someone. This morning you said 'he'. Who did you see?"

It was Jasper who answered, surprising them. He rarely commented on the rather (what he deemed) unimportant visions that Alice saw.

"She saw the student I'm tutoring."

Edward deadpanned. This was what the big rush was about this morning?

"That's it?"

The blonde shook his head, "there was more, but that's the basic gist of the vision." Edward glared when he refused to elaborate. He had been doing that all day.

Emmett spoke up, "Jasper why are you tutoring a student, your control is thin enough. Wouldn't it be harder in a small space, one-on-one?"

They all regarded the quiet male. It was a dangerous situation that he was in and they all knew it. Before Rosalie could rip into him though, Jasper spoke with a puzzled look adorning his features.

"That's the thing," his confusion became evident, "When I was with him, I could hear his heart pumping, I could smell his blood, and yet there was no bloodlust. It made me feel…human. It was pleasant."

They all frowned. That wasn't normal.

"Is he a threat?"

"That's the thing, I don't believe he is."

"How could you be so sure?"

Jasper deadpanned. Really, if the student he'd just spent an entire class period with was out to get them, he'd have acted before without their knowing. He was a soldier after all. He was trained to neutralize any and all threats. As a predator such instincts were only heightened by his vampiric state.

"I just do." He responded thoughtfully, "He seems…familiar."

Jasper had to deflect the conversation from him. He hadn't had time to sort out his feelings about this new development. A thought struck him. He wasn't the only one with news about the new student...if what he assumed happened in Brevan's English class was correct.

"Isn't that right Rosalie?" the blonde raised a brow at him in question. Why was he including her? The other three were just sitting back and watching. They just knew something was going to happen. Emmett slightly tightened his grip on his mate's shoulder. He'd have to be prepared just in case, especially judging by the glint in the stoic vampire's eye.

"How would I know?"

"He seemed to know you from one of his classes."

"Obviously, everyone notices me."

Jasper decided to bait her. Brevan Hunter didn't seem all that impressed by his sibling and knowing Rosalie…this would be interesting.

"Apparently he didn't appreciate being ogled during class."

The blonde choked, "Ogled?"

"Apparently grouchy blondes aren't that attractive, especially when they are glaring holes into them." He spoke in a suspiciously monotone voice, hiding his amusement. He wasn't doing a good job if Edward's, and Alice's, snickering was any indication.

It was a good thing Emmett had a good hold on her. He saved her from any lasting indignity an inevitable outburst would provide. Rosalie's eyebrow was ticking dangerously as she hissed at the amused empathy, _"that rat?"_

"Your classmate."

"No he's not. He's a dead man walking."

Fortunately, before the beauty was able to make anymore threats the lunch bell rang. Jasper gracefully rose and held out a hand towards Alice. He'd leave Emmett to deal with his riled up mate. Nodding to an amused Edward, the ex-soldier made his escape.

He'd be questioned in depth later one, he knew. For the time being though, he'd enjoy what little peace he could get. And he'd have his conflicting feelings sorted out by then.

"Do you really think he's no threat?"

Amber eyes met the concerned seer's. Alice rarely questioned his judgment, in the rare time she did, it concerned topics of importance.

"I don't know." He ground out slowly, "it's just a feeling I have."

They walked the rest of the way in silence each to their own thoughts. They would just have to wait and see.

* * *

He knew it was imperative that he enter the place, especially if he wanted to use his magic. But every step he took in its direction made him recoil that much more. The totems marking the entrance weren't helping either. It gave off an unwelcoming feeling.

That and he felt the power coming off them. They were grounding the magic, calming and leveling it out so that it could be used. Just feeling it happening was a surreal experience.

The war had left him sour on magic, extremely so, so it was hard for him to be in any created venue without twitching. Just the feel of it in the air made his skin crawl and fingers trigger happy.

He took a deep breathe and headed in, desperately trying to not look like he was headed for his own execution. Harry nervously toyed with the strap securing his holster to the upper part of his thigh.

He'd chosen to wear his wand in the old American western gunslinger style for two purposes. The first was comfort. Much like the World War II veterans wore a bowie knife in their boots. It was a protection that most enemies would miss easily as it wasn't the first place most would think to store their wands. It was also useful for hiding attacks and keeping the others guessing.

The second purpose was for the draw time. Compared to a wand holstered on the arm, the leg was actually swifter, if that was what worked with the soldier's style of fighting.

Also the quad binding left his appendages free to help with maneuvering.

He internally sighed. Not liked that helped him any. His magic was all but useless at the moment, unless turning inanimate objects into live beings counted. And that was what finally brought him here to the magical section of Seattle. He had to find some alternative or move elsewhere. His home, as comfortable as he was with it, was not suitable for the upcoming months when the wind, snow, sleet and rain storms hit.

And he needed to have it weather proofed and livable by that time. So far all he succeeded in doing was making fur grow on banisters and snappish faucets.

Harry braced himself and crossed the threshold. It was harder than he'd imagined. The surge of magic that washed over him felt like an invisible wave. It made him sway a bit. Not even the wards around Hogwarts were that powerful.

Shaking his head, the wizard looked around, taking in the sights. The first shop he noticed was a menagerie of some kind. It just stood out with its red brick finish and large, clean windows. Antiquated, elegant, gold lettering painted on the glass caught the grey light and seemed to glow. The British teen was sharply reminded of shop straight from the late nineteenth century. It looked inviting and pricked his curiosity.

Perhaps he'd invest in a pet or a familiar while he was here. Just having a living and breathing creature around would make it so that his home didn't seem quite so empty. As much as he desired solitude and peace and quiet, there was something so forlorn about the house that needed to have life about it. And if he were to be truly honest with himself, he would also love the companionship as Hedwig hadn't accompanied him. He really didn't think his…pet…water tap could count as a companion.

As instantly as the thought had come, Harry squashed it like a bug. There was no way he could care for a creature and try to keep a low profile. Anything in Forks, aside from the odd goldfish, would attract attention. And he really had no idea how to take care of one. The Dursleys weren't pet people and Hedwig could take care of herself.

After making sure and double checking to see if his wand was secured tightly in its holster, he ventured forward into Northwestern branch of the American magical community. It wouldn't do for him to hex an innocent.

Harry headed to through the street carefully looking through the different stores and window shopping. The place was very clean and tidy and all of the shoppers looked as though they were taking a Sunday stroll rather that shopping. It felt like a scene taken straight from Anne of Green Gables. Even the shops he had entered were set up in a general store fashion. With barrels and stacked box displays, each store embellished with hints of Victorian designs and architecture. After he entered another shop, this one specializing in Native American artifacts and dream catchers, that he relaxed just a smidgen.

He was slightly disappointed about his outing though. There wasn't really a bookstore like Flourish and Blotts, most sold various odds and ends for different specialties and only what pertained to that branch of magic.

He noted that there wasn't truly anything he was familiar with. Even the apothecary looked nothing like he was used to seeing in Diagon Alley.

It was a strange feeling to have. He had been given the impression, back in England, that all known magical communities had mainstream items they sold. Or they were at the very least similarly modeled after Diagon Alley.

This place wasn't. It was a mishmash of time periods and cultures with a Victorian feel as the predominant theme. There was some old western stores, throw backs to the mining days during the Gold Rush of the 1800's, there were Native American shops, and even a barber shop with a red and white pole twirling out front.

It was...comfortable, charming, and completely foreign.

With a sigh of irritation, veteran scowled at one of the books he'd picked up. Apparently European magic users used their magic too frivolously. Everything he found here was all about the land and how to harness the magic with respect. That's not to say that there weren't a few spells that were similar to the ones that he did back in England, it's just that the offered styles seemed to be in completely opposite of anything he learned.

How one could 'commune' with nature was beyond him. Especially because he knew that the magic here was wild and unpredictable. How do you commune with an unstoppable force?

He was not getting all lovey, dovey with a fern nor was he was going to get chummy with a mossy stump if he could help it. There was just no way. The remains of his dignity wouldn't survive.

Deciding he'd had enough for the day, the teen made his way towards the exit. Perhaps he'd come back again later. For the time being he'd endure the results of his magical use. The war veteran didn't notice the dark gaze from across the venue surreptitiously following him out the entrance.

* * *

Looking at the newest patch of fur on the wall, Harry gave up and sighed. Fine, perhaps he'd give the whole 'be one with nature' thing a try…after he cleaned the kitchen.

It just seemed so undignified. He wasn't going to go out and hug a tree though, that's where he put his foot down.

"Looks like I'll have to get a few things done the old fashioned way for now."

He chucked his wand into the parlor. He'd fetch it later.

"Alright you," a near venomous glare was being sent towards the bane of his current existence, "as I am the one who brought you to 'life' and you 'live' here as well, I think you should at least pull your own weight."

Of course the culprit just sat there looking as innocent as possible, completely harmless. The wizard knew better. It was all just a facade.

"I'll take your silence as cooperation then."

Harry picked up the plastic bucket he'd filled with Lysol and began filling it. He began to relax...just a little. Perhaps showing it whose boss was all that was needed. The teen didn't notice the metal spout inch towards one of his hands and chomp down…hard.

A growl ripped through the rundown house as an extremely frustrated teen stomped out side for a breather. This was not going as he planned.

Stupid house. Damn faucet. And bloody, annoying, frustrating magic.

Harry sucked gently on the throbbing bite mark, trying to soothe the pain. This wouldn't have happened if he'd been able to use his magic. It was like holding a slimy, wriggling fish. He thought he had it and then the magic of spell would slip out of his control, like it had when he tried to repair the floor boards by the entrance. Now he had a permanent rug by the door…that squeaked.

He really should have just given up trying to use magic the European way. It obviously wasn't working. At the realization the stomping teen stopped and deflated (though he really, really wanted to throw a tantrum). Stubbornness was getting him nowhere.

That's what had gotten…

No.

He was _not_ thinking about that. Scowling, Harry stalked back into the kitchen, grabbing a soapy, water filled bucket (he'd been able to get that much before the stupid spigot tried to bite him) and sponge determined to not let unwanted memories haunt him, the teen set about cleaning his kitchen. He had better things to do than dwell on the past.

It wasn't until he was well into his chore when a burst of inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt as he was scrubbing the kitchen floor. Because he couldn't find anything remotely similar to cleaning charms in the 'magical alley', Harry decided to make use of the knowledge Petunia kindly instilled in him. And it was during the repetitive, and rather mind numbing, motions that his thoughts wondered. Through which that wondering remembered the more light hearted years of his schooling and some of the craziest antics that happened there.

'No bloody way.'

That was when the idea came to him and made him freeze right in the middle of a scrub and almost drop the brush. It was so ridiculous that it had to work. And as the rules of magic went, if it's ridiculous or impossible, then it must work.

Scowling something fierce the war veteran stalked over to the stupid faucet with the brush in hand. He had declared war on the device from the moment the bloody thing sunk its little metallic fangs into his hand.

Appeasing was definitely the last thing on his mind. In fact his thoughts were more along the lines of a sledgehammer, blowtorch, and metal cutters…and massive amounts of destruction.

Taking a deep breath the wizard cautiously reached his brushed hand out. So far the bloody thing hadn't moved, probably waiting for an unsuspecting moment to strike. And he gently scrubbed the rusted parts where there was mineral build up along the edges.

And then the damndest thing happened. The faucet purred, or nearly did, in satisfaction, causing Harry's eyebrow to twitch as he involuntarily scrubbed harder. More than a few curses were running rampant through his mind, the least of which his inspiration.

'Damn you Hagrid and your man-eating books.'

Just as he finished up with a, now, content water spigot that happily refilled his cleaning bucket, he froze. Something was just beyond his sense. It wasn't the harmless tickling like he'd experience at school or when he first arrived in Forks.

The veteran's brow furrowed as he felt out the presence. It was…curious? In military language, curiosity meant that there was possible threat. And a nosy person was definitely not welcome. Why couldn't people leave him alone?

Harry growled and prowled back into the rooms he'd been using as his sleeping quarters. His bucket was left abandoned in the sink. He would fetch it later.

He had a _guest _to greet.

* * *

Edward didn't know what to think. Jasper had _never_ been comfortable around any human. It was too painful. And now there was a third party that he wasn't sure if they were a threat to his family or not.

So he took it upon himself to at least gauge this unknown entity. As the eldest of Carlisle's children, he felt the responsibility to safeguard his family keenly. Perhaps it was a carry over from his human days when the firstborns and heirs were expected to look after their own. They couldn't afford to take chances, especially in such small towns and with the werewolves to appease.

It was a surprise to find that the human had lived close by. Apparently Jasper and Alice hadn't felt the need to share such knowledge, especially since they watched him look into the property.

The entire situation had bugged him throughout the school day until he'd made up his mind about his course of actions. He'd see for himself if the latest resident in Forks was a threat to his coven. With his ability, he was perfect for the job.

After school, he'd gone home to speak with Esme or rather inform her of what he was doing. She would be worried about him if he just up and disappeared. She had wanted him to feed before going so he'd be at full strength and also reduced the possibility of something going wrong. As he really couldn't deny her anything, Edward did just that.

It wasn't until the twilight hours that he found himself parked in the branches in one of the trees outside a rundown lot and wondering if his information was correct. No sane mortal would live such a place. So far he'd seen no indication of life and it was getting darker by the minute.

Where was the human?

As if in answer to his unasked question, a hard voice broke the vampire from his thoughts. Slowly Edward turned to face his assailant only to be met with a rather wicked looking knife poised dangerously close at to the jugular veins of his throat. He hadn't heard or smelled anything!

"_What do you want?" _

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: (revision: I've been editing some things that have been bugging me, sorry if you're confuzzled...again)

The chapter…it wouldn't stop growing!! **O.O**

I apologize for the last chapter. I had gone in and edited parts that were unsatisfying to me, so in essence I did repost it (a few times), but it wasn't my intention to confuse everyone. Anyways, let's get this ball rolling and the fun begins, hmm?

A special thanks to The Night Air. They took the time to give me a basic run-down of the Washington educational system…and help correct a few mistakes.

. . . . . .

I actually had Jasper on mind when I wrote this, but also seemed strangely fitting for Harry/Brevan as well (hence the Gettysburg address). I think it's slightly poetic in a sense, the 'war' in the Harry Potter books could be considered a civil war in the magic community. Interesting idea wouldn't you say?

As to the war question a reviewer asked: No war is ever completely over, especially civil wars. (*hint*hint*hint*)

. . . . . .

To the reviewer who commented on the (billion or so) tests, those are standardized tests for high school graduation, college applications, college placement, acceptance and transcripts. They're annoying and expensive and required. And that's life in the American school system. Of course there is the option of not taking (some) of them, but you'd have to have a junior college in mind because no university, private or state run, will take you…which sucks.

. . . . . .

I actually find it hilarious that people respond more to my inane, rhetorical questions (and comments) than, well, the story (shrugs). To the reviewer with the question about my mini rant in chapter 2, in Twilight: Bella is saved from thugs by Edward, ends up going on a sort-of date, in which they talk about things, and after she's finished he drives her home (nothing paricularly romantic about the whole thing). The chapter ends with Bella stating that she was in love with him... (Grimaces)

**Posting Schedule** (not that anyone cares…right?): Thursdays intended and when I can manage, Mondays. Just once a week for now though.

Echo 2/5/09


	6. War Veteran

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 6: War Veteran

* * *

_"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up."_

**-James Baldwin-**

* * *

Edward froze. This was not going how he planned, at all. In fact he never planned on making contact, only read the other's mind and intentions and then head back to the coven. Clean and simple, information acquired and mission accomplished. No fighting, no words exchanged, and definitely _not_ being held at knife point.

Apparently his target was more perceptive than he'd given him credit for. Of course, in hindsight, Rosalie being caught studying the teen should have tipped him off. Who knew what this guy was capable of, especially considering he snuck up on the scout of the Cullen coven. So here they were his assailant, whom he was as sense-blind as a mortal to (which annoyed him), and himself.

Up in a tree.

With him being held at knife point.

"Isn't your welcoming a bit…extreme?"

"Not if my _guest_," the word was stressed, "is a peeping tom."

The vampire's brain stopped functioning at that moment as it came to a screeching halt. His more…gentlemanly disposition came to the fore. It was offended.

"I am _NOT_ a pervert."

Ignoring the outburst of the intruder, the trigger-happy veteran spoke again. If the situation weren't so serious or he wasn't in the middle of a flashback, Harry would have been cracking up at the ridiculousness of it all. Of all the things to concentrate on at that moment…It reminded him of Seamus. Harry nearly growled as he tried to keep a grip on reality.

"What else would you call a peeping tom? I ask again, _what do you want_?" The strain was barely noticeable, but it was there. Edward picked up on it and filed the information away.

The vampire refused to answer. He'd already been caught and he wasn't giving up any information on his family. His mind was working overtime on an escape.

"Everyone wants something." The soft voice became steely, "and normal people don't park out in trees and spy on their targets."

Edward became statuesque. He didn't like where this conversation was headed, though he was beginning to take note of the other male's vocabulary. _Target?_

"But then again, you _aren't_ normal _are you_?"

Edward began to sweat (mentally). The human knew. Or at least the male holding him hostage suspected something. He had just exposed himself, and by proxy his family, as something other.

He couldn't turn to confirm without having the blade slice through half his neck. Even with his rapid healing, wounds like that still hurt, a lot.

"You have the same feel as a few I've encountered while in Forks. Would I be correct in assuming you're related to them in some way?"

This man was dangerous and from the look in his eyes, intelligent. It was a bad combination for a front liner like Harry. And he was the kind of threat the wizard was trained to neutralize.

"Edward Cullen, by the way."

Harry was incredulous. He revised his opinion of his visitor instantly. The idiot was a first class fool. Did he _want_ to be hunted? He was painting a huge target on his back if he was. No soldier worth their salt would give their name to a hostile force when they were being threatened and still had options open for retreat.

"And I would care…_why_?"

"Eh?"

"I didn't ask your name." Harry readied himself, the blade slightly pressuring the skin beneath it. He'd seen the muscles tense. The peeping tom was about to do something. Edward kept on, seemingly unperturbed by the increased in pressure.

"No, but I gave it anyways, what's yours?"

"You are in no position to ask."

The vampire dropped, earning him a small nick in the neck, and seemingly disappeared. Harry tensed, waiting a moment in the silent stillness.

"Aren't I though?" a voice ghosted next to Harry's ear. The wizard spun around, blade flashing, dropping into a crouch just as the vampire hopped backwards to another branch a safe distance away. The ex-soldier just twitched but made no other movements. He'd underestimated his opponent.

Edward took the time to study his assailant. The other male was dressed in some type of boot, he couldn't really tell as it was covered by a somewhat baggy pair of cargo pants (how he was able to creep without making noise was beyond Edward), and his form was hidden under a dark hooded sweatshirt. The vampire could barely make out that there was some kind of fingerless glove covering what shown of his hands.

Harry was sizing up his opponent as well. He was lithely built, which was good for speed and agility. The rest was hidden under a dark cloth t-shirt and stylishly baggy jeans, definitely to allow movement. It looked like he had a pair of runner's style shoes on.

Mentally the soldier snorted. The guy wasn't a stealth specialist that was for sure. He didn't even make an attempt at hiding his features. Harry himself, had removed his sunglasses for this engagement as his hoodie would provide more than enough protection…and he didn't want them to break.

"What are you?" the vampire pondered allowed causing the wizard to become very still, his senses trained warily on the other male. Edward's golden eyes glowed in the darkness, like a great cat's. Even with his eyesight he couldn't see past the hood, the shadows were obscuring the other's features.

"No other being, much less a human, would have been able to catch me." 'Or sneak up on me.'

"You think too highly of yourself."

Edward bristled at this. He couldn't let the other know he was being riled so easily. It was at times like this he wished he had Jasper's military discipline.

"You haven't answered the question."

"I answer to no one."

"That is not what I asked."

"You didn't ask, you stated."

Edward never wanted to strangle someone so badly than at that moment. To be brought down to this…arguing semantics about verbal usage. It was childish. But then again, he was the one trespassing. So he acquiesced…sort of.

"What are…_you?_"

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or scowl. Did the guy even know how to ask a question? First he tries to spy on him and then he has the nerve to try and interrogate him.

"I'm me." The wizard growled. "That's all you need to know."

"No," the coppery haired vampire rebutted, "you are an unknown. A threat."

"It's a good thing you realized that too." That same hard voice quipped. So their neighbor had a sharp tongue as well.

"It seems we are at an impasse then."

"No we are not. You," the wizard stated authoritatively, while pointing in the vampire's direction "will leave the premise. And I," he pointed to himself, speaking condescendingly like he was talking to a two year old child, "Will be left alone. Am I that clear?"

"Oh, and what would stop me from returning?"

Harry paused a moment before replying icily. Edward was able to pick up on the barely concealed snarl, "I might not be so…accommodating when I catch you."

"What makes you so sure that you'll be catching me?"

Harry snorted, causing Edward to frown. "You're assuming too much. You aren't a stealth specialist nor are you trained in the assassin arts. I could take you out easily."

"Really now? I believe you're bluffing."

"So what if I am? It's not like you're going to do anything about it."

"Oh," Edward couldn't help but be amused, "Is that so?" the vampire slightly purred. It was in a manner that reminded the soldier of something. It made Harry frown. He knew he'd encountered someone somewhere with whom he had a little tête-à-tête that was eerily similar in mannerisms. It was almost like _that_ time when he and Susan encountered...

The realization struck him like on of Dobby's bludgers, making Harry wanted to curse Lady Luck into the next century and then upend her pot of tea on her head for good measure. _Freakin' bloody Merlin's shorts!!_

He'd just challenged a vampire. How _**stupid**_. And he also revealed that he wasn't normal in terms of human abilities. Of course the idiot would be interested in him now. It was something as simple as that, a stupid mistake, one over calculation on his part that had gotten others killed.

Being a teenager, awkward and rash didn't count as excuses in a war. There was no detention. There was no reset button. There were no apologies and essays to write. There was only life…and death. There was no in between. It was a place where house rivalries meant nothing. Where childish prejudices were just that, juvenile and got you nowhere other than six feet under.

One stupid, brash, over-confident, heroic decision and people died. You can't be the hero. You had to shut up and follow orders. And he prayed, in his heart of hearts, that God would have mercy on his soul for those deaths he caused.

This was going to be tricky. His opponent, judging by his actions, was the frontrunner. The fastest. He was also intelligent because he had to discern information and observe.

Harry's eyes hardened. "You're the scout aren't you?"

The question was more like a demanding statement. Edward made no move to reply.

Damn his luck. And at that moment he'd never been more thankful for his covert ops clothing than he was now. He didn't need to channel magic into the enchantments already on them, thus making his life easier and adding some automatic protection.

…Protection that would keep scouts and information gatherers from ascertaining some important details. Like his scent. Or his magical signature. They also gave him extra advantages when it came to physical combat or rather protection from too much bodily harm.

Edward's eyes narrowed. How could he have deduced that?

"Are you a threat to us?"

"I'm a threat to my enemies." The other male paused, "I give you one warning and one alone. Leave me be."

"Now, now, now, there's no need to be hostile. We are neighbors after all."

Harry deadpanned. _**Really?**_ Did this fool think he would be instantly chummy at that? And his mercurial moods were giving him mental whiplash. Though, he noted, it was a good stalling tactic and handy in keeping your opponent off balance…if they were a green recruit or a rookie. Harry was neither.

"Who was trespassing and peeping on whom?"

"I was _not_ peeping on you."

"Then what were you doing? I call looking into people's windows peeping, you idiot."

"Considering your residence of choice, I believe it is a valid way of ascertaining whether or not you are in."

"In other words, you're just too lazy to walk up and ring the doorbell like a normal person. Or are you just that impatient?"

"It's…not exactly subtle."

"So what? Neither is hiding up in a tree and peeking in on someone."

"Is that what got your knickers in a twist? Me peeking in on you?"

"I knew it, you are a pervert."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Fine then, you're a closet pervert."

"For the last time, I'm not a pervert."

"Could have fooled me."

"Well you are a fool."

"And you're in denial, lech."

Edward began growling. Really, he was raised a gentleman, not some sort of undignified, perverted cretin. Harry on the other hand was reading the other quite clearly. He was getting under his skin. Good. Perhaps he'd get the information he sought.

"So if that is the case, and you weren't fulfilling your perverted tendencies," Edward's eyes glowed brightly as his glare became more menacing, "then you were scouting, and doing a smashing job at that, and trying to get information on me."

Harry, though Edward couldn't see it, was sporting an almost innocent look as he mocked the vampire. He couldn't help it (or, rather, try to stop himself). The idiot just rubbed him the wrong way. And he had enough of foolishness to last him the rest of his life.

He was a pretty straightforward type of guy. All they needed to do was ask. Not that he would spill his life story or what ever sob story they were looking for, but he would answer them.

"Did I sum it up right?"

The ex-soldier barely dodged the fist that blurred out of nowhere. His only warning had been a small tightening of the vampire's muscles before he attacked. It seemed he had broken the final straw.

A violent, cracking noise resounded through the still forest air. Sparing a quick glance back, he saw the gaping, jagged hole in the trunk where the bark used to be.

Harry was profusely thanking someone up there watching over him for his Seeker reflexes and seeker training as a whole. He wouldn't have been able to dodge otherwise.

Edward's eyes narrowed. Those reflexes… they were faster than his.

The guy wasn't human. He couldn't be.

Wanting to get some space and, hopefully strategize, Harry leapt from his perch and bounded downwards between trunks like a pinball. Seeing that he was gaining momentum, the former soldier decided to use that speed to enhance his own. He'd need it. There was a clearing below that he could use to his advantage.

Just as he was one leap away from hitting the forest floor, a blur materialized in front of him. On reflex, the wizard flipped over a powerful swipe and landed softly in a crouch before darting forward to avoid another strike.

Intent on losing the other, Harry tried to execute a move he'd utilized in combat against the more physical magical beings. He'd feed magic into his specially designed, combat wear and propel himself through the air, like a diver would a springboard. It was a move that saved his skin more than a few times during the war. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the perfect trunk.

The ex-soldier sprinted across a clearing, focused on running up the base of a trunk and flipping over the vampire that was hot on his heels. His intention was to land behind and strike.

It should be effective against his pursuer, at least in that he could attach himself to trees like a jumping spider. So he leapt. When his foot slipped just as he propelled off the trunk, Harry realized there was one teeny, tiny, insignificant deatil he'd forgotten.

His magic wasn't his own at the moment. And so he underestimated the amount he'd channeled…and that of the tree he'd launched from.

Harry was blasted across the clearing in a blur. Edward, who'd been following close behind, only saw him run towards a tree and then seemingly disappeared (and felt a small breeze rush past him). It brought him to a near screeching halt just before he collided with said tree.

The coppery haired vampire looked around wearily. Where had he gone?

A large crack thundered in the silence, causing the vampire to whirl around. There was silence for a moment before a cracking noise groaned through the tense atmosphere. Before he could head in that direction, Edward dove out of the way of a large tree trunk. He barely made it just before it crashed down on the spot he'd just stood.

The vampire blinked and stared. That had been close. This was getting out of hand. Deciding that, for the sake of both their respective health, he'd withdraw for the time being. And so, the coppery-haired male rolled onto his feet and darted away.

He knew that the coven would ambush him once he stepped into the house, not that he minded. Edward definitely had some news for them. And seeing as how the other male had hint of military training, he'd see what he could pick from Jasper's experience. Besides, they were all long overdue for their talk. Perhaps he'd get finally get some answers to that vision that had Alice all secretive.

As the wind brushed past him, a smile began to creep its way onto the vampire's lips. Now that he thought about it, the entire experience had been exhilarating.

At the moment though, he'd keep his distance and observe. If they did meet again, it would have to be on neutral ground. Otherwise the other male might be tempted to knife him next time they met.

A challenge. That was something he'd rarely come across unless he was sparring with his siblings, which wasn't' very often. Now he had one. Anticipation welled up within him. Finally.

A stray thought almost made him stumble. He hadn't used his ability. Well, there was nothing for it now. There would be another time, of that he was sure. Edward sped off into the night, allowing the shadows to swallow him form.

There was only silence.

A couple hundred feet away from where tree trunk crashed lay the broken remains of the stump. Right at the base, where the stress fracture was, was part of a suspicious looking imprint where the bark was indented. On the underside of the fallen trunk, was the rest of it. It was roughly human shaped.

Just beneath the small spatial, triangle shaped wedge, created between the stump and the trunk, lay a crumpled form. It groaned in pain before passing out, one thought flashed through their mind.

'Ow.'

* * *

"_Why can't you keep yourself out of trouble for once, Harry?" _

_Groggily, a pair of pain filled emerald eyes blinked open as the soldier came to. He felt like Hagrid had run him over with a herd of hippogryphs and then sat on him for good measure. It took him a moment longer to take in his surrounding and realize where he'd landed exactly. _

_In a tent. _

_A field-medic tent to be precise._

_Turning his head slightly, Harry was met with annoyed hazel eyes. His mission partner had probably dragged him back…again. And judging by the consternation in her demeanor, he was going to get it…big time._

_In his defense he could plead his Gryffindor tendencies which were flimsy arguments at best anyways, an excuse that would never work on Susan...Which was why Harry was convinced that those in the chain of command always paired them up for such important missions. She was the niece of a law enforcement officer, and was immune to them. _

"_Did we complete the mission?" _

"_**We**__ barely did."_

_And having a Hufflepuff as an assassination partner…_

_He'd never run into a more well trained, well prepared group of witches and wizards than the badgers. Whatever they were teaching them at Hogwarts, it certainly wasn't quidditch. _

_Harry groused internally. He knew Susan wasn't going to give up on him just because he agreed with her. Appeasement never worked on her either come to think of it._

_So with the courage only men who were facing their executioner knew, he braved the dressing down he was about to receive. At least his Gryffindor courage was good for something. He just wished lectures weren't a part of the package._

_Had he been anywhere else and not laying injured on a medic cot, there was no doubt in his mind that the red head would have smacked him upside his noggin. From the thunderous look that was crossing her expression, he knew he'd screwed up royally. _

_He gulped and tried not to cower before here. Harry braced himself as soon as he saw her take a large breath and lit into him._

"_You __**idiot**__, that was a __**stupid, ROOKIE**__ mistake!"_

* * *

It was Rosalie who broke the ice first. After all, they all were pretty much thinking the same thing if their stunned expressions were anything to go by.

"What _the hell_ happened to you?"

Edward had coming sweeping through the back door like the hounds of hell were upon him, leaves blowing in behind him in mini tornadoes covering Esme's clean carpeted floor. His normally near perfect hair was in disarray, leaves, twigs and bark liberally strewn about it. There was a thin line of blood from where the knife pierced his throat. The blood stained the top of his shirt.

His normally immaculate appearance was smothered in dirt and there were various rips and stains throughout his clothing. He seemed to have the entire forest floor attached to his person one way or another.

Each of the Cullens were seated in various spots around the room. Jasper had claimed the floor by the fireplace with Alice claiming his lap. The sofa was where Emmett and Rosalie were parked, his arms stretched out behind them across the top. And finally, Carlisle and Esme were seated at the table, hands clasped across the top. Esme's expression had worry written all over it.

When Esme had told them where Edward was and so they all awaited his return. Each, in there own way, eager to see what he could come up with. A disheveled Edward who looked like he got into it with a bear caught them all by surprise.

Jasper of course had a pretty good idea of what went on. He had the advantage of drawing on his experience on the battle field which made it easy for him to read the situation. And Alice…had that infuriatingly knowing look in her eye.

When Edward saw that his entire family was assembled he scowled. He'd hoped to make it to his room and clean up before he shared his news. It put him in a sour mood.

"You got roughed up pretty good, lil' bro."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Emmett."

"Glad to help."

Everything fell into an awkward, expectant silence. The rest of the family exchanged glances before looking at the 'youngest' Cullen expectantly. Edward just stood there with his arms crossed, looking quite sullen.

"So…"

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to tell us?"

"What? That I got in a fight with a tree?"

"Apparently it won."

"Shut it Jasper." Edward snapped, hardly in the mood for teasing of any kind. It was a very teenager-ish action. Carlisle, who'd been watching curiously from his spot next to Esme, was secretly relieved. Edward wasn't always as composed as he'd like everyone to believe. Though, the doctor looked on thoughtfully, he wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

"Yeesh," Emmett nearly whistled, "what's got you in a mood?"

"Nothing."

Rosalie spoke up, tired of all the bickering. "Well it has to be something, otherwise you wouldn't look like you do now."

Carlisle decided to step in before any really arguments could erupt. It was plainly obvious that Edward had gotten in a tussle with someone and they needed to find out what went on.

"Edward, would you tell us what happened?"

Unable to deny his sire anything and not wanting to prolong his grimy circumstances any more than he had to, the youngest looking vampire gave. Though, he heavily edited certain portions of his encounter. There were some things that his family didn't need to know.

His family listened intently. It was a troubling story.

Firstly, the human was able to capture Edward by surprise. Secondly, the fact that he revealed no pertinent information about himself while taking control of the conversation spoke of experience. And finally he knew what they were.

"Did he say what exactly he wanted from us?" Carlisle had a thoughtful expression.

"He wanted to be left alone."

"Then that's what we should do." Rosalie spoke up. She was all for leaving well enough alone.

"Jasper," the blonde haired vampire looked up from where he'd been quietly analyzing the situation, "You're in close contact with him, what could you tell us."

"We only met yesterday." The ex-soldier replied wryly.

"So?"

"That's hardly enough time to gage anther person's abilities. Besides, we were studying the entire time."

"Wait," Carlisle stepped in, "You're tutoring?"

Jasper withheld a sigh. Well done Edward, just transfer the scrutiny onto someone else. Did he really have to explain himself every time?

"Yes. Yes I am." He cut off the next question, before the doctor could form it. "I don't feel the urge to bleed him dry which was why Edward decided to investigate himself." He sent a look at the other vampire.

"I see." the entire lapsed into thoughtful silence. If what Jasper said was true and what Edward relayed about his short conversation, then they might have to just watch and wait.

Better to ere on the side of prudence in such matters.

"For now let's leave him be."

"Bu-"

"Yes Edward," Alice piped in, a large grin on her pixie like features, "you can't go around ambushing people just because you think they're a threat."

"Wait a moment, he ambushed me!"

"That's right Edward, no more antagonizing the neighbor."

"Not you to!"

"Hush you," Esme quieted. She had seen the frustration in her 'eldest child's' demeanor and had taken pity on him. Her other children had taken to teasing whenever possible to keep things light hearted. "Edward, please."

"Fine." The word was huffed in annoyance. He was so looking forward to investigating a bit more. There was a glint in the copper haired vampire's eyes that did not go unnoticed by Carlisle. He shared a look with Esme. Did something happen out there that they were unaware of?

"If you are done with your inquisition, I would like to have a shower."

"It was hardly an interrogation." Rosalie pointed out. Edward didn't even bother to acknowledge her making his way towards the stairs.

"Edward," Carlisle called out halting the teen, "is there anything else we should know?"

"No." He was gone. The coven really didn't know what to make of everything. A moody Edward was hardly new, but the source of his mood swings now that was different. Each lapsed into their own contemplative silence. It wasn't long before that was broken.

"So…does this mean we know his type now?" The largest of the Cullen 'children' asked dryly. Emmett received a face full of feathers from a well aimed pillow in answer, courtesy of said brother.

* * *

The ex-war veteran winced. He hated having to pay his dues the day after when he made such simple mistakes. His partner's words came back to haunt him with a vengeance. It made him feel nostalgic.

How he missed her.

He missed her no nonsense attitude. He missed her pep-talks when he was down. He even missed the smacks upside the head he received for stupid remarks and mistakes.

She had always been there to ease the loneliness he felt after a particularly large battle and the loss of those he knew. He couldn't have asked for a better person to watch his back. And she died saving his life because of a stupid, rookie, mistake she'd always lecture him about.

Thankfully Luna had stepped in then otherwise he'd have gone mad. By that time he felt like he'd been drowning in his grief because everything he'd bottled up inside seemed break through and swamp him.

Harry gingerly rubbed the bump on his head, wincing as it stung. He was nursing a pretty good sized goose egg from his impromptu meeting. The entire experience was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

Thankfully the vampire had some tact and came investigating on a Friday night. School had started the Thursday before but he was unable to attend classes because he was called to the office to finalize some of the paperwork, and he hadn't met his tutor until the next day.

Perhaps he should have started that whole communing with nature thing sooner. That way he'd be able to avoid some more…painful experiences. At least he had a day or two to heal before going back to the high school. He just knew his oddly shaped skull would get some attention.

He could only hope that the swelling would go down over the weekend. Harry grimaced as he instinctively looked at the rusted refrigerator. He didn't even have an ice pack to help.

The wizard had woken up groggily that morning, shivering from the morning coolness. His entire body ached from stiffness and his bruises were a nasty purple color. It'd taken him entirely too long to reach the house as his aching joints forced him to slowly make his way through the woods. Of course he was cursing the vampire every step. At the every least he was able to at least get a bucket of hot water from the sink to bathe from.

Harry hadn't gotten around to modifying the house nor had he created adequate facilities. He had only just moved in that week, choosing to spend the rest of his summer holidays in Seattle.

He'd figured that with his magic, he'd have the place ready in no time. However, things never turned out like he'd expected them to and his plans were set back.

Even with the steaming water, he still felt like a ninety year-old man. And he thought sleeping on rock hard cots was painful.

The teen stopped and snorted at the thought, he'd been through worse. He'd switched his dew soaked clothing for a comfortably warm pair of sweats, hoodie and a t-shirt.

He'd been able to scrounge around for a large enough areas rug to place on the living room floor. It was in the best condition out of all the rooms at the moment and the most insulated. It was also the room he was bunked in for the time being.

Harry was parked in the middle of the floor sitting Indian style. His elbows were parked on his knees and his back was hunched over. A small, roped box was placed in front of him.

This was the last box he had to unpack. There weren't that many to begin with as wizard didn't really have that many personal effects. It was small and was only roped shut, an easy chore. He'd have held off until his aching joints and tired muscles had recovered if it had been any bigger.

Deciding he'd wasted enough time, teen reached for the package. It took only a moment for the ropes to fall away he'd tied it normally forgoing the use of his magic in such a simple chore. The flaps of the cardboard opened easily revealing the few mementoes he'd taken from the wizarding world.

The ex-soldier went rigid as he sat there in frozen silence. All thoughts of pain and soreness were banished to the back of his mind as he caught sight of what lay at the top.

His face held an unreadable expression as he peered at something within. He'd forgotten exactly why he'd saved this one for last.

And why he _hated_ the sight of what exactly it contained.

A trembling hand reached in and withdrew a small, black lacquered figurine. It was stylized with a small crown circling the top.

The king piece.

His knuckles whitened as he looked at the small chess piece. He'd almost forgotten. The house rumbled and shook a little in reaction to his emotions. It took Harry a few minutes to calm himself down.

With an extraordinary amount of effort he gently placed the piece back in the box and closed it. He slid it off to the side, but not before glaring at it.

He'd look into it later. Right now though, he didn't have enough control over his emotions to keep them at bay and he was tired.

Shoving off all thoughts and memories, the former soldier busied himself pulling out his school things and finishing his half written paper. Maybe after he was finished becoming in tune with his magic and the house was repaired.

The teen failed to notice that his hands were still slightly shaking.

* * *

Edward impatiently glanced at his wrist watch. What was taking Jasper so long?

The blonde had informed them at lunch that he would stay after school to help with a study session. They had agreed that someone would have to pick him up, for appearances. So they tossed a coin to see who it would be.

Unfortunately it was Edward who'd lost and was given the task. So here he was, waiting and extra half hour for his missing sibling to make an appearance. The coppery haired vampire still maintained that Alice and Emmett conspired against him somehow.

Normally he wouldn't have been bothered. He was, after all, immortal and time had a somewhat different meaning for him.

One thing that hadn't changed for the aged soul caught in a teen's body was that his impatience hadn't waned throughout the years. He could only wait so long before wanting to jump in and act.

Pushing off the car, Edward decided that he'd go drag his errant sibling out of the library. He forced himself to walk at a sedate, human, pace. Who knew, perhaps he'd run into their neighbor and get a good look at him.

* * *

Harry began to reassess his decision to stay for after school study hall. Thankfully his bump went down over the weekend and only left a bruised soar spot. Somehow though, he felt that it was still there even only in imagination.

It didn't help that Jasper kept looking at him with an oddly amused (and knowing) expression. So Harry decided to tell the truth, well an edited version anyways. It would be too fantastic for any normal person (the librarian) to believe if they overheard him.

Or so he thought.

What he'd expected a raised brow or an accusation of lying or something, not amusement. It didn't make him feel better (more embarrassed and self conscious actually) when his tutor threw back his head and guffawed (a laugh worthy of Emmett) as he the tale of his late night encounter.

And Jasper, for his part, couldn't help it. After he'd deduced what'd happened (judging by the lump on Brevan's skull) on the British teen's end, the mental picture of what events led to such a wound Friday night was just too much. But when he heard what happened straight from the horse's mouth…

From the deepening blush on the other student's cheeks, Jasper just knew a slip up like that was embarrassing. It sent him into another round. Annoyed, the wizard stood, slinging his book bag over his shoulder.

"If you're quite done laughing at my expense, I believe we are here for a purpose. Otherwise I'm leaving."'

"Come," the vampire waved towards the abandoned chair, "let's finish this paper of yours, shall we?"

Snorting softly Harry retook his seat. He really did need the help. Pulling out various papers and books, the ex-soldier set about finishing his essay. He didn't have much left to do. It definitely beat anything he wrote at Hogwarts. Maybe it was his tutor, perhaps it was the subject matter, but whatever it might have been, it was different and it was working.

So the time ticked away on the wall clock with only the scratching of the pencil on paper and the occasional low murmur of a question being answered. Jasper took advantage of the other's distraction to study him. So far his efforts were meeting with little success.

Thoroughly focused on the article he was writing about, Harry leaned forward in concentration. The action caused a small silver chain slipped out, unnoticed by its bearer, and caught Jasper's eye. The pendant was a small white, stylized flower that looked handmade. The vampire studied it discreetly. He could make out some kind of etchings on it but nothing else. It was an odd piece to wear.

As if reading Jasper's thoughts, Harry glanced down. Luna's flower had slipped out form beneath his shirt. And then back at the vampire's questioning expression.

"It was a gift from a friend." He quickly, but gently, replaced it back under.

"Was?"

"She's dead."

Jasper was beginning to feel his age. After all, how many times had he said the exact same words?

"My condolences."

Harry gave the vampire a wan smile. For some reason he felt that Jasper truly understood. It was strange and comforting in a surreal sort of way. He had never had anyone to confide in after Luna.

At Jasper's unspoken question Harry internally sighed. He just hoped that he didn't have to elaborate, "She was caught in the crossfire of a terrorist raid…"

The teen couldn't help but feel slightly odd when he spoke of her death so casually, especially when he felt so void of emotions. The blonde had set aside his books to listen intently. In a strange, déjà vu sense, this whole scenario seemed like one he'd had before. It was quite a strong feeling too.

It was almost like having a memory of something, knowing what it was, but being unable to verbalize it because he couldn't quite remember it. Or, rather, having a word on the tip of his tongue and yet having it slip his mind.

Harry continued, his covered gaze staring off into space as he relived that horrible morning, remembering. Remembering how she felt when he held her half burned body, the smell of burned flesh clinging to his senses. The way her leg was twisted awkwardly, horribly mangled. How her badly burned lungs shuddered as she desperately tried to breathe. What it was like to feel like he was drowning as he cried for her in anguish. Her words searing themselves into his memory as she spoke to him one last time. The numbness he felt as he buried her beside Susan and Neville's graves…

Jasper knew, just knew, by that look that teen before him was reliving the horrors of whatever he'd seen. It was a starkly familiar set of emotions that the vampire had never hoped to encounter again. The empathic side of his gifts readily indentified the meaning of such emotions. And there was only one way to receive them.

War.

The blonde frowned. How on earth did this kid get caught in a war? He was from England, for Pete's sake. They don't have wars there. Edward had hinted at military experience, but he could have acquired such discipline numerous ways.

"And?" he urged the British teen to keep on speaking. Brevan shrugged, seeming to shake of whatever memory he'd been reliving.

"That's…really all there is to it."

What else was there to say? He wasn't going to acquaint Jasper with the intimate details of his life. He'd already accepted everything and moved on, or at least tried to. It was really hard to want to live when he had no will to fuel that desire.

The teen seemed to age right before his eyes, reminding Jasper again of that elusive memory of someone from his past. Jasper frowned. There had to be more to it than that if it made such an impression on him.

"Really now?"

"Yeah."

Feeling uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation and that he'd slightly opened up to someone barely known for more than a day, Harry glanced around the room. He shouldn't have revealed as much as he had. There would undoubtedly be pity and sympathy with whatever fake feelings were sent his way.

He didn't need nor want any of that.

His eyes landed on the wall clock. It was after time to leave. It was a perfect excuse. Their session had gone over and he hadn't even noted it. He didn't really want to leave though. He was comfortable in his tutor's presence.

It was strange actually. The other male didn't seem intent on leaving either.

Deciding he still had a few things to take care of as well as to stop procrastinating about his magic, Harry stood and began packing his bags. If he wasn't careful he'd end up spilling his life story. And while the other male made it so easy, he just couldn't risk it.

Jasper was startled when the other teen stood up and began packing. Had he offended him?

He glanced at his watch and started. No wonder, they'd stayed after. He eyed the other teen. There would be another time. The emotions he was trying to read were very muddled. As if they underwater.

"Later Jasper." The teen spoke hurriedly as he slung the book bag over his shoulder.

"Goodbye Brevan." Harry couldn't help but wince at those words. How many times had he heard them? Too many to keep count.

Jasper caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and filed it away for later. That was interesting. There was more to this young man that what he displayed. Harry too interested in escaping didn't see the obstacle in his path.

"Oomph!"

"Excuse me." A masculine voice spoke softly. It was apologetic. That however did nothing for the teen.

Harry froze when he hear the familiar voice. Daring to confirm his suspicions, the teen's eyes traveled upwards and were met with some well remembered features. It made the British teen officially name Mondays as the worst days of the week.

_**No. Bloody. Way. **_

The wizard _**hated**_being correct at moments like these. He just couldn't escape. If Friday night wasn't enough, he had to endure the fool's presence at school and there was nothing he could do about that.

'_It's the Peeper!'_

Edward twitched. The thought was broadcasted so loudly that he could have sworn it was shouted…right next to his eardrums.

It was a moment before his mind was calm again…and had allowed him to recover form his shock. He knew that voice, mental or not, anywhere. It seemed he found the favorite haunt of their…neighbor.

Harry, on the other hand, decided right then that both he and Lady Luck seriously needed to have a long overdue conversation about her conspicuous absences. Because unfortunately, right now he was staring strait into a pair of the most golden, amber eyes he'd ever seen.

A very well remembered pair. His hand involuntarily made to reach for his hidden knife.

His annoyance at seeing those cat-like eyes again was beginning to make his eyebrow tick. This could not be happening.

"Brevan, this is my brother, Edward Cullen." Instantly the tutor's features were schooled into a neutral mask. Jasper fought the urge to grin madly as both males twitched. He'd notice their near instantaneous reactions earlier when they collided. This promised to be entertaining.

"Edward, this is Brevan Hunter."

"Mr. Hunter." Edward greeted neutrally (or what he thought was neutral, it had a slightly strained quality to it).

"Closet Pervert." Harry returned, just as stressed. Edward twitched again as he tried to school his features.

"You two know each other?" Jasper's spoke up before this brother could retort. His voice was suspiciously bland. The mask of innocent neutrality that he'd put up was being hard-pressed to stay in place.

'_Pervert?'_

'Shut up!' was the quick, crisp reply. The blonde's eyebrow arched, though he fought to keep from laughing. Apparently there was more to the story than Edward had told them last night.

"We've…met." Edward's replied aloud though somewhat icily. Brevan piped up at the same moment. He had been taking cues from Jasper and knew that the blonde was annoying the other male.

"He was peeping at me." Brevan cheerfully volunteered. He should have been disturbed at the thought but this was too entertaining to pass up. He was going to have his revenge for the bump on his head.

Edward sent the shades wearing teen a venomous glare. "I was not."

"What else would you call it?" the sense of irony was not lost on Edward as they re-hatched the same argument. Only with a witness this time…who happened to be related to him.

"Yes Edward, what _would _you call it?"

The vampire refused to dignify the question with an answer. He would not be the victim of such childish word games. It seemed he was the butt of everyone's jokes lately. The others just chuckled at his silence. They honestly couldn't blame him.

"Wait a minute…" As if something finally clicked in Harry's mind his eyebrows shot up into his hairline, the stereotypical expression of shock plastered over his visible features. He rudely jabbed a finger in Edward's direction (causing said vampire's eyebrow to tick). "**You're** _related_…to _**him**_?"

"Through adoption only."

Edward transferred his dark glare at the other vampire. Traitor.

Jasper. The_ reliable_ one when sticky situations arose had abandoned him. It didn't matter if what he said was technically true. Family _supposedly_ stuck together.

"Ah, that would explain it." After moment, in which he made a show of scrutinizing the other male, Harry smirked, "I really don't see the family resemblance."

Edward was caught choosing between whether or not to cheerfully strangle the British teen. He had never been so humiliated in his long life. It would not happen again.

Deciding that it would be best for both their healths, Edward's in particular, Jasper addressed his charge, drawing the attention away from the homicidal Edward. Brevan seemed more amuse than anything.

"Brevan," the shaded eyes turned towards him, "you'll have the paper by tomorrow, yes?"

"Of course."

"Good. I'll see you then."

"Until tomorrow." The soldier nodded towards his tutor, blatantly ignoring the other vampire, and swept out of the library purposefully leaving a very amused and equally disgruntled pair of vampires behind. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. The idiot might impair his judgment if he stayed any longer.

Besides he had more important things to do. His house needed help, his yard was a wilderness unto itself and needed to me somewhat tamed, and he had his magic to 'commune' with. Come to think of it, he had to go grocery shopping…

As soon as the dark haired teen was out of those doors, Edward sent the darkest glare he could muster at a laughing Jasper. He_ would_ have his revenge.

"Not a word." He hissed.

"My lips are sealed."

"I mean it Jasper."

"And so do I, they won't be hearing it from me."

Edward nodded at the verbal confirmation, Jasper would keep his word. Stealing another quick glance at his, _still_, grinning brother the vampire scowled. Somehow that Cheshire cat smile didn't make him feel quite as reassured as he should have.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: **Someone fed my plot bunny caffeine…it wouldn't stop going, and going, and… O.O**

Ah, the whole 'to see or not to see' now that really is a question debate. My answer to the question is: are wizards human?

Last time I checked they were. They're vertebrate, warm blooded mammals. They give birth to living young. They have hair, sweat glands, three middle ear bones used for hearing, and a neocortex region of the brain. They have the ability to be intelligent (which is debatable). And above all…they have horrible fashion sense.

To me, wizards and witches just have an extra mutation (like the mutants in X-Men) that allows them to channel magic. As Alice was human (unless she was a humanoid-alien-implanted-on-earth-to study-the-inhabitants-turned-vampire)) I see no problem with her having visions of Harry. I'm using their humanity as a base for Alice's visions. Also you have to take into account the environment she lives in and how much magic she's naturally been exposed to.

Now the Werewolves/Shape Shifters/Skin Walkers are a whole other monkey…which I have a theory (and fully intend to exploit) about and will come into play later on, but as of right now I have no intention of elaborating on.

I also have a theory on that, that will be plot essential later on about all that 'Harry minding Edward' (i.e. noticing an intrusion on his mind) or being unable to read his mind and why this Edward…can (it also pertains to Alice as well).

_('you see…it's all part of the plan.')_

…And I don't follow fads (you should know that by now).

. . . . . .

Recognition for the, erm, spar goes to **Naruto: Legacy of the Rasengan by Tellemicus Sundance**. I wish I could take credit, but alas it was his genius that inspired me.

. . . . . .

The timeline differences between HP and Twilight; let's just say the HP timeline was moved up to match the Twilight time. As far as where Harry is schooling wise, he is in his junior year (with Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett. Alice and Edward are sophomores) which is about a year before Twilight, just to clear that up.

Most authors go into descriptions right off the bat and that is one thing I hope to avoid for as long as possible. Some are just a bit unnecessary and others seem a bit too ridiculous (and excessive).

. . . . . .

To **BrookMctirre** (who kindly spoke up about my assessment of the US school system…I live here too you know (*pouts*)): Firstly, thank you.

If I may pose a question to you: if you have a brand new student who is willing to learn and trust you to guide them, as an educator would you not want them to take every opportunity to help them in the future or would you do everything in your power to help them?

Why I added just about every major test on the planet is simple. Because that is how I knew it here. Every educator at my alma mater _**highly**_ _encouraged _the students to take every test. And no, Harry won't be taking all of those tests, that's the school Director (and educator) talking. He'll be expected to be proficient enough to graduate. And he's an extenuating circumstance anyways.

I knew that since Forks was such small school that there probably wouldn't be many opportunities for Harry to advance in his subject matter. What I meant by accelerated was faster paced, something similar to the quarter system in University. Essentially classes cram more in a shorter amount of time, I did not mean honors levels. I don't expect him to be turning out doctorate level compositional essays anytime soon.

As for Harry, college, as well as his living status…it really doesn't matter at the moment, he has to graduate first. He's just enjoying his cram sessions until he's up to par. Save for Math and Science, Harry could technically start at the beginning and catch up easily within a year's time.

As far as criticisms in general go, I'm just as guilty of the heart-and-mouth-before-brain syndrome as the next person. So I understand if something rubs someone the wrong way and they feel the need to verbalize their thoughts. So I don't mind being criticized.

Then again I might just have masochistic tendencies, hmm…

. . . . . .

**BTW: Does anyone know any valid British curses or slang?** I'll be the first to admit, I don't. And I can't have Harry always saying, "Bloody this, Bloody that, and Bloody ice cream sundae with a cherry on top." So if you any of you English peoples out there would be gracious enough to help out lil' old me, I'd be more than grateful!! (just be sure to include context or I might butcher them)

Echo 2/12/2009


	7. Gift Bound

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 7: Gift Bound

* * *

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire."

-**Winston Churchill**-

* * *

'Of course.' The copper haired vampire thought wryly, 'I had to _conveniently _forget whose Jasper's other half.'

True to his word, the blonde vampire hadn't spoken about Edward's rather unfortunate meeting. That didn't stop the rest of the Cullen 'children' from finding out though.

The rest of the coven had teased him mercilessly for the last few hours. Especially, after one small birdie let slip what had happened. He had only just gotten away from them.

And his…new…nickname.

When she found out, Esme had given him this huge lecture on how a gentleman should act and what was proper and wasn't. It didn't help that the rest of his tormentors were snickering at him in the background.

At the very least they respected him enough to not come barging into his room and disturb his privacy. So that's where he now found himself.

The eternal teen glanced outside his window in time to see Jasper and Alice walk out the backdoor and head towards the woods. They were probably going hunting.

The coppery haired vampire eyed the now newly dubbed 'demonic duo' before turning his gaze back to the cloudy sky. He couldn't trust them a far as he could throw them (which wasn't all that far considering). With Alice who seemed to know too much about anything and Jasper…who decided that he'd rather side with human over his dearest 'younger' brother.

He never expected Jasper to just up and turn on him like that. Granted it wasn't anything life threatening or he wasn't in any danger, but his pride stung from the humiliation.

He truly didn't believe he was a pervert. He didn't go around and invade people's privacy…in _that _sense. And he certainly did not act out of propriety.

Perching up in tree branches was more a force of habit. That was how he hunted all the time.

And no human ever thought to look up. They always looked down and to the sides. That was why horror movies were so creepy (for the mortals). There was always something crawling on the ceiling.

Well he used to think that. Now, of course, it had to be sent right back in his face by a rather cheerfully sarcastic, sunglasses wearing teen.

One who grated on him the wrong way. First Alice and Jasper show up and scare the begeezus out of their coven and now this teen comes from nowhere and annoys the life out of him, figuratively speaking.

And they had only met for a scant few minutes at that.

In which he had the gall to insult him, unprovoked he might add.

And then makes him bleed for the first time in over a century. (Which he had a mind to speak with the teen about if he didn't strangle the boy in the process)

And provide him with a challenge.

Crap.

He wasn't supposed to be thinking of anything complimentary or even remotely neutral about the other. He'd rather bite something, preferably nonhuman, than that.

Lord only knew how much he _didn't _want that nuisance around forever. He'd never have any peace if that happened. If anything the annoyance would be the death of him. Or he'd ask Carlisle to end his miserable existence before his self respect was completely shredded. Hmm…

* * *

Harry stared at the book. He didn't really like what it was suggesting.

Really, _really_ didn't like it at all.

The ex-soldier was seated comfortably Indian style in his self-proclaimed room. He'd been reading over the various rituals and customs that would help him with his problem. Unfortunately there weren't any suggestions that really appealed to him. The one he was eyeing had looked really good…until he read the last line for the requirements.

The chanting he could do. Not very well mind you, but adequately enough. He wasn't Hermione with the whole _swish-and-flick_ precision.

There was a definite yes to the bonfire in the backyard. He just needed to create a pit to hold it else he'd set the forest on fire (which would be an accomplishment in and of itself all things considered).

The burning a bundle of dried sage…Alright, that was easy enough. He just had to go back to the Seahawk's Alley and locate that dream catcher store. Surely they had or knew someone who had it.

Implanting the totems to ground the ambient magic and stabilize the area enough for him to use his own would take a little time but was doable. It made rather backwards sense considering the alley's entrance had two rather large grounding rods. And he could testify to the power and effectiveness having experienced it first hand. All he needed to do was secure the foundations to the four corners of his property. Three would have been adequate enough, but being who he was and where he'd come from, Harry wasn't satisfied with adequate.

Seven was his chosen number. It was also magically powerful. With that many totems, his place would be guaranteed secure. Plus, there was the bonus of also the temperance of his magic and the land. They would coexist in a somewhat neutral state where his house was concerned. Also, with that many totems he wouldn't be irritating the land as they would vacuum up the stray ambience and return it to the ground. An added bonus, if he figured just right, would be that his own power would be amplified…or it could be dampened. He wasn't sure which nexus or eddy was nearest to his house and he didn't especially want to find out first hand.

A thought had stopped him. If the totems were some type of grounding rod, then did that mean he could use his magic in the alley? He'd have to see when he visited next.

He could only see it as a win, win situation. And he wasn't going to be doing anything major anyways. Just make his house livable and secured to his liking.

He'd just have to remember that it wouldn't help him once he stepped outside of the boundaries. He'd still be as magically impaired as he was before. That was until he picked up another book back in the alley.

But that was not his chief concern. No. What the ritual called for was for him to dance around like a maniac, chanting, waving the burning sage for a good half hour to three, depending on how strong he wanted the foundations to be.

However that wasn't the clincher. Oh no. He had to perform the entire thing, with painted symbols all over him (that were water proof), while it was raining (while an easy requirement to fill, it would be murder to keep the flames going though)…in the nude.

No, Harry was _not_ liking that at all. He was not going to put himself on display for the world to see (it didn't matter that he was a virtual recluse). He couldn't chance someone dropping by and getting a good eyeful.

And he rather liked his modesty thank you very much. Also, he wasn't in the habit of barring his battle scarred body to the world.

The veteran sighed. He'd have to make another trip back to the alley to see if he could find a more…modest approach. His sensibilities wouldn't handle the embarrassment of it all, even if it was for a good cause. He couldn't even take a shower in the boy's dorms back in Hogwarts without having swim trunks and a shirt on.

And that was the most humane of all the approaches. The rest were rather gruesome. But considering the alternative…Harry would much rather do the ritual that had him terrorizing the local fish population and committing widespread slaughter. He had hoped that there was at least one in there (besides the exhibitionist debut) that didn't involve taking life of any kind. Either way it would take time.

He sighed, closing the book. At least he didn't have to hug a tree.

* * *

Harry decided school wasn't really all that bad. He slouched back in his seat. It was a few minutes before the bell rung, signaling the start of his day.

He'd been attending a little over a month and nothing catastrophic happened…yet. And he was crossing his fingers and fervently praying that it would stay that way.

"Good morning class." The sleepy replies were mumbled back in answer. Their English teacher set his briefcase on the desk before picking up a dry erase marker and began writing out their assignment for the day. He began talking while his back was turned to them.

"Today, we will be starting the first project of the semester. And as of today, your partner will be who you work with for the rest of the year. So I suggest you get along because both your grades depend upon it…"

"I will be assigning you partners according to seating assignments, and no, I will not be changing them." Groans were heard throughout the class. Whether it was due to the project or the possible partners was anyone's guess.

One teen was certifiably horrified, behind his stoic facade. He was seated at the back and didn't have that many choices as to who exactly his potential partner could be. In fact, if his suspicions were correct (and they usually were), his partner would be… he glanced around just to make sure. There was only one possible candidate for that selection, but his teacher wasn't that cruel…was he? His attention was brought to the fore as his name was called.

"And Mr. Hunter." His eyes focused on his teacher, "your partner will be Ms. Hale."

He was!!

He was doing this under _extreme_ protest. It wasn't fair!!

The series of jealous looks he was receiving from both teenage sexes were getting old…fast. That and pitying glances as well from those who had been shunned by said ice queen…who was his mortal enemy…whom he annoyed on a daily basis…

Now this was just cruel and unusual punishment. What did he ever do to deserve being partnered up with _her_? Sure he annoyed her 'sibling' and antagonized her (who wouldn't? They were such easy targets), but was there really any need to torture him with her constant presence…outside of class?

Both partners, as if of one accord, turned and gave the other the most venomous glares they could muster. At least that hadn't changed.

He and Lady Luck really, _really_ needed to have that luncheon. She had to stop abandoning him at the most inopportune times. It was quite inconvenient for his sanity.

How did he find himself in such situations?

The two continued to have a glaring contest throughout the assigning of topics. It escaped their notice that the rest of the students either inched forward or seated themselves further away from the murderous duo. They didn't want to be inadvertently caught in the inevitable crossfire.

Fortunately before any violence could erupt between them their English teacher, Mr. Thomas, decided to start the class subject and review their homework assignments. Grammar was also on the agenda for the day.

Once he started droning, Harry decided that the teacher was more worthy of his attention and not his soon to be slighted project partner. He especially didn't want to have to repeat the subject next year. He already had enough remedial coursework to complete.

Out of habit, the veteran pushed the center of his sunglasses up on the bridge of his nose. They had been inching downwards and he really didn't need his partner to find something about him that he'd inadvertently revealed. He wouldn't be giving her blackmail material as ammunition.

When the teen broke eye contact with her, Rosalie was somewhat incensed. He was ignoring her again. That was really grating on her nerves.

Only Edward had ignored her thusly when she first came to the coven. Now she barely tolerated him and his moodiness. He'd always been like that. But to have this nobody just dismiss her like trash, it was unacceptable.

The beautiful vampire glared harder in the teen's direction. She knew that it made him uncomfortable. He had proved that theory time and again throughout the course of their…acquaintance during the first few weeks of their schooling.

Though, she couldn't help but notice. He wasn't that bad on the eyes even if he annoyed the hell out of her. He always had those infernal sunglasses on, having never once taken them off.

It made her curious, which was also annoying. If only she could see what eye color he had under those shades, perhaps her interest would decrease? She wasn't so sure.

He unwillingly held her attention for some reason. And it wasn't in the way prey did either. Humans had always been inconsequential in her opinion even if she secretly envied them. However, she would have sworn he wasn't a human if she couldn't smell his blood or hear his heart beat.

She understood what Jasper meant when he said that the Brit didn't smell like food. It wasn't offensive like the werewolves of La Push. Nor was it as enticing as some freshly spilled blood from a fight or a simple paper cut. It just wasn't there.

It was a strange feeling to have. On one hand she could say, without a doubt, she wouldn't miss him if he was run over by a truck. In fact she would probably be cheering (unobtrusively) from the sidelines. But on the other hand, she was intrigued, incredibly so and had come to somewhat enjoy their silent war of superiority.

He was like no other she'd ever encountered before. He managed to unsettle Edward the Implacable in one meeting, even get under the broody bastard's skin. He held himself like military, and if Jasper was to be believed, had lived through a war.

He always wore his sunglasses. Even indoors where there was no sunlight. Any and all attempts to remove them ended in failure. His clothes were nothing special, but they allowed him to blend into the background a little too easily which was odd.

He was a walking mass of contradictions from what she had heard of his personality. He was apparently carefree outside of class and when addressed. He was easy going and somewhat welcoming, but he made no attachments, shied away from them actually. At times he could be downright cold and equally intense. He hated attention. And he was a complete ass to those he'd taken a dislike to.

Brevan was like a pile of jumbled puzzle pieces. And it seemed like she only had a few corner and side pieces to work with.

Maybe this project thing wasn't as bad as she thought. After all, she'd get a chance to unravel the mystery that was Brevan Hunter and perhaps dig up some dirt on him in the process. The beauty grinned inwardly. She'd succeed where Edward had failed. Oh, she'd relish that…and rub it in his face. The wizard sat across from her, unaware of the plans beginning to form in the blonde's mind.

Not many would have the gall to attract Rosalie's attention, which he did. So now he had to deal with it…all of it.

With a last glare, the blonde turned to give her attention to the teacher when something caught the corner of her eye. She shifted her head slightly to get a better look and nearly shot out of her seat in surprise.

Rosalie froze and just stared. When had her gift activated without her notice? She was sure that the last time she saw it was when it led her to Emmett.

She had also used it to confirm their connection. The blonde was all too aware of the consequences should she have chosen incorrectly.

Normally it only activated when mates were within vicinity. And not just any mates, but vampire mates and Sirens as well. That usually meant that if she came into contact with one half, the other was nearby. And the strength of the bond was determined by the color she saw.

It did apply to humans, but she rarely used it for such trivial beings. After all, the odds that the mortals would find their soul mates were a million or so to one. She'd seen too many paths to really pay attention when it did activate.

Only Emmett knew of her gift and he, like her, didn't want anyone else to know for a good reason. Just knowing was a perk that came with being her other half. It was also why he was stronger than the average vampire. He was made to guard Rosalie and his body knew it instinctively. A gift like hers would be widely sought after throughout the vampiric world or hunted.

Either way, she would never be left alone in peace. One advantage she did have to work with was that since it was not an active gift like her siblings, it was easy to hide. And with her attitude and general outlook on life, she could easily hide behind a mask of unaffected indifference. It was a subtle gift, quite the opposite of Rosalie ironically.

Rosalie glanced at the translucent, reddish thread that extended downwards from the male's fingertips and pooled on the floor. Still, she had never seen such a vivid color before.

The brat might be annoying, but he intrigued her. And he did provide her with some amusement and challenge. Now that she thought of it, it had been too long since she'd last meddled in the affairs of the heart. And she just knew that sparks were going to fly.

Rosalie went back to her text it wouldn't due for her perfect record to be tarnished by letting her mind wonder. But still…

Who was Brevan Hunter's other half? And was he a Siren or a Singer?

* * *

"So," Emmett greeted his mate after pulling out her chair, "anything new happen with dearest Edward's newest best-friend?"

The large vampire became the recipient of the darkest glares to ever grace the 'youngest' Cullen's features. Of course the muscular vampire simply ignored in favor of the beauty next to him.

"I'm partnered up with him for a project."

"And that means…"

"It means we'll be seeing a whole lot more of him this year."

Edward fought the urge to do a rather spectacular head-table bang and ruin his carefully cultivated mask of perfection. Working with Rosalie, meant that he'd have to see the annoyance. And that meant they would be within sniping range of each other.

He didn't want to see that menace anymore than he had to. He didn't feel that the verbal abuse he was likely to receive would justify anything he'd ever done (or didn't) to the transfer student.

Carlisle would forgive him this once if he dried the annoyance, right? And he was quite sure Rosalie wouldn't mind having to work alone for a while, yes?

No, no he couldn't do that. Rosalie would be on his case for exposing them and giving her a larger share of the work load. It was tempting though.

Perhaps he'd get to challenge the teen again? Now that was an intriguing thought. How would the unusual male fare in on even grounds?

Edward's dead pulse would have quickened at the realization. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad situation after all. He found someone of interest and who managed to catch his attention. He could read his thoughts, but the other male always stayed shuttered away from the world.

Jasper, it seemed, had taken to the teen more than they thought. In fact if the vampire didn't know any better, they were on their way to becoming fast friends. The blond almost spent as much time with him as he did with them. Alice seemed happier about the situation too.

According to Jasper, the darker haired teen was always studying in the library. Apparently his education was woefully lacking.

A coppery eyebrow furrowed. Now that was something he'd never heard of except when he researched about abusive homes and the conditions of the children from those environments. The pieces and clues he was picking up were baffling.

As he became lost in thought, Edward missed the look Rosalie shared with Emmett. The large vampire's eyes widened a fraction before covering it up with a grin and squeezed her shoulder. Alice had been dumping her tray. Jasper was conspicuously absent.

As far as the students of Forks High were concerned life was the same as usual. The rain began splattering against the windows.

* * *

This Government stuff was a lot more complicated than he thought. Any political aspirations Harry might have ever entertained were thoroughly squashed and buried.

Wryly he looked down at his textbook. Never again would he pre-judge the outside world by the insular views of the wizards. He had to hand it to the brilliance of the minds that came together and formed the political systems that led to the ones used today.

It appeared that the outside world had more than made up the magical deficit by expanding their minds. Just because one part of the same species developed an ability to utilize something that a majority could not did not give that small group the right to lord their advantage. Often times in history, it's the different group that becomes extinct. Mostly because the advantage that part of the species would have had, became relatively useless as the world changed around them and they could not adapt.

And the wizards just mooched off of their hard work. At least that was how he was beginning to view it. Since they steal from the land, why not steal from those they consider inferior as well?

He glanced up at his current company. It seemed his tutor had felt that he needed some extra help when reviewing the governing systems and how the balance of powers worked. Not that he minded, it was true after all, but he couldn't delude himself into thinking that this was normal. And it was lunch time. Didn't the other guy need to go have lunch with his family?

As if reading his mind Jasper glanced up form the text he was reviewing as he prepared the next lesson for Brevan. Ever since that first day when he'd turned down the invitation, the blonde had been most persistent asking at least once a day. He even stayed in at lunches to watch over the other teen. Harry maybe wondered if the blonde just wanted to see some more sparks fly between him and the pervert. Speaking of whom…

"Why exactly do you call Edward a pervert?"

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched as he moved onto the worksheets for the section he'd just read. He had a talent for annoying other so easily he sometimes felt pity for them. However, Edward Cullent was not one such person, err, vampire.

"Isn't that what he is?"

"Well…I honestly don't know. I don't think so." The blonde cringed a little as a thought crossed his mind. Edward, mind reading, hot and heady nights between himself and Alice…

"_Never mind_."

Harry chuckled and continued his worksheets. He was almost done with them.

"But do you really have to antagonize him so?" a moody Edward was who he had to endure when they all returned home while the Brit got off scot-free. Was it any wonder that he preferred Brevan's company while it lasted?

"Hey he did earn the nickname, why not use it _and _be sure that the propriety of some unsuspecting teenagers will be protected in the future?"

"I doubt you're such a Good Samaritan at heart."

"I might not be, but that doesn't mean my observations aren't valid." Harry couldn't resist tacking on his thoughts of one easily bugged target. It helped that he had a fellow conspirator and ally in the blonde. "He probably goes around Forks at night to peep."

"I never could get out of him what he does exactly."

"See, I'm right."

"Not necessarily."

"Just you wait." Jasper shivered. Brevan sounded entirely _too much_ like Alice at that exact moment.

Harry looked up from his papers and studied his tutor. Something about the mannerisms he displayed struck a cord within the wizard. It wasn't until a moment ago that he really felt the sensations on his magic. He needed to pay more attention in the future.

"You're adopted right? Not some long lost cousin that's related to the lech?"

"Yes." Jasper stopped his scribbling to look at the teen curiously, "Why would you say that?"

"You…feel the same."

'_Feel?'_

"Perhaps…because we _are_ the same in some ways."

The blonde just watched the boy placidly. Jasper was honestly curious at how Brevan would react. And he wasn't too disappointed. The teen didn't explode or do something dramatic like he'd expected. It hardly mattered though. It was amusing to watch though.

Harry just stared, his brain finally connecting the dots. A suspicious looking tick that had begun forming above his right eyebrow became more noticeable.

'_It's an invasion of the vampire kind!'_

"You don't peep too, do you?" Jasper choked. Had he been drinking water he would have sprayed it all over their books and the other boy. He turned to the human with wide eyed. How had he come to _that_ conclusion? His expression must have been written all over his features because Brevan grinned back mischievously satisfied.

"I thought not."

"Then why'd you say something like that?"

"How am I supposed to know the inner workings of, erm, your guys' minds?"

He looked around the small library. He was sure that in a town this small, everything had ears and he didn't want to be the one to let the cat out of the bag.

"For all I know, it could be an, uhh, pastime of yours."

"Well, I'll thank you not to groups us all in the same category as Edward."

"Right-O." he mock saluted.

Jasper just smiled and went back to his text and notes. He had never been so comfortable in his long existence. At least not the kind of equanimity he found in this small patch of serenity.

He enjoyed this banter. It was so easy. So…familiar. He just wished he had more than a faint impression of a memory to go by. A need to know what that was seemed important to him somehow. A remembrance of better days before the bloody vampire wars, perhaps?

Looking over his completed lesson plans, the blonde vampire smirked in satisfaction. Without a word he set a sheet of assignments that would be due within the next week before Brevan, forcing the teen to read through it. His grin grew even wider as he received a withering glare.

"You're evil, you know that."

Jasper smirked. Brevan wasn't the only one with wits around here.

It seemed Edward and Rosalie weren't the only ones Brevan could pick a fight with. However after years of dealing with Edward, Jasper could probably have qualified as a seasoned professional and thus was unruffled and relatively unscathed.

A running joke in the family nicknamed him Jasper of the Iron Senses because he was the only one to come away unfazed by the decidedly volatile forces of a blonde beauty queen and emo copperhead. With his ability, was it any wonder that he could easily control his own emotions if he tried?

"I try."

* * *

Harry took some deep breaths as he stood outside the totems. It wouldn't do for him to have an episode every time he came into contact with enormous amounts of magic. The little he'd channeled here and there weren't enough to make him sweat. Make him antsy yes, but not set him off.

It was just where there were large concentrations that he started having a hard time. Some of the battles he'd been in had so much magic floating around that his hair stood straight on end for weeks. And the grounds had been so saturated that if any spell hit them, it would bounce like a tennis ball instead of being absorbed.

Well. There was nothing for it.

The veteran tugged at his leg holster out of habit before stepping through. He tried to conceal his shiver as the magic washed over him. Just the sheer force of it made him break out in a cold sweat. His hands clenched.

He would overcome this…this…this fear he had. It was his birthright. And he'd be damned before being afraid of it.

When his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light, even with his glasses it still was temporarily blinding, he strode forward into the street intent on reaching that dream catcher store he'd spied on his first visit.

Dark eyes followed his movements from the saloon down the street and watched as he entered a particular store. With a final gulp, a few bills were thrown on the table and former occupant only left the doors swinging back and forth.

Harry had found the book section after a kind shop assistant had guided him to the right section. He really, _really_ didn't need to know about the mating rituals of the North American Sasquatch.

Finding a title that sounded like it was exactly what he was looking for, a fingerless gloved hand pulled it gently from the shelf. It was old and worn. The pages were made of a thick parchment and yellowed with age.

"'Ello Poppet." A rough, cockney accented voice spoke up next to him. Harry's instincts went on high alert as his hand froze with the book. Brilliant. Just brilliant. He'd hoped to have a bit more time before they found him…or better yet, not at all.

"What is it you want?" he spoke coldly. His muscles coiled, preparing for action.

"What? No 'ello for an old friend?"

"You mean handler."

Harry placed the book back on the shelf and turned to face the intruder. His countenance was icy and unreadable. He truly didn't want to see that face again. The other wizard just smiled back with his yellow, chewing tobacco stained teeth and unshaven face.

"It's all the same love. You've given us quite a merry chase now 'aven't you? Be a good lad 'n come quietly."

"I'd rather not."

"Now, now, no need to get all 'ostile on me. We just want you back safe 'n sound."

"Not bloody likely."

The wizard snapped his wrist and drew his wand in a swift movement, placing the tip right between the teen's eyes. Harry just stood there, seemingly unaffected by the dangerous position he'd found himself in.

"Would you rather be 'n a body bag? Or 'ow 'bout in little tiny pieces?"

"How about…neither."

A fist blurred, smashing across the grubby wizards face sending him staggering backwards. As he looked up, trying to see his target through watery eyes, another fist slammed out nowhere, sending the man through the store's glass window.

Screams erupting from startled passersby. The glass tinkled as it rained on the hard ground and crunched when the force of the man's body collided with the hard, packed earth.

Sighing, Harry fished into his pockets and withdrew one of his emergency stashes. He threw the wad of bills on the counter before prowling outside, wand drawn.

'Well.' He thought wryly as he stepped out into the streets, 'time to test that theory.'

* * *

_Harry thoughtfully glanced at the chess piece he was currently fiddling with. It was small, black, lacquered with a few notches here and there that spoke up age and use._

"_Maybe he'll come back if you rub it hard enough." A wry voice cut in. Harry glanced up to the slightly humored face of his lieutenant. "Like that lamp in the Aladdin stories." _

_Neville had stepped in, the tent flap swinging shut behind him. His normally round face had grown into a handsome angular. The wear and tear of war taking its toll as the faint shadows and lines were visible._

_The 'light' side of the civil war had been broken up into small divisions each being led by two commanding officers. It was the easiest way to control troop movements and keep track of their forces. They also knew who to yell at when someone's regiment screwed up._

_Harry's second was his most faithful, compassionate, and kindhearted friend. Their friendship was one that started back in his first year, even though it could have been termed as a loose acquaintance. Harry wouldn't have had it any other way._

"_No," his hand fisted around the king piece, "No he won't." _

_Neville crouched beside his friend. They were in the medical tents, the dark haired teen currently perched on the edge of his cot his feet dangly over the side. The pajama top opened allowing for his slinged arm to rest comfortably. His entire torso covered in gauze, the injuries too delicate for a mere potion to heal. _

_Harry looked up and met his close friend eye to eye. Neville met him squarely. He didn't shy away from the emerald gaze as most everyone else now had. Harry was still Harry to him. He was his commander, leader and friend and there was no one else whom he would follow into battle. _

_He was glad for his knowledge in plants and anatomy. Even if he was denied training in the healing arts, he was proficient enough. He regarded the other. That knowledge had saved Harry's arm and kept the infection from spreading. _

"_Why not?" _

"_I don't want him to." _

"_Harry." The other tried not to flinch. "What happened before we extracted you?" _

_It had happened right after their first successful engagement. Harry's unit had taken the lead position as flank support and successfully dispatched an attack that would have crippled their forces. It was a success because the surprise attack had held many seasoned fighters and by eliminating the opposing force, they had dealt a major blow to Voldemort's support and moral._

_Of course everyone celebrated and praised Harry for his accomplishment as the lead officer. There had been some mild celebration in the camp and no one had noticed Harry's abduction. _

_Neville had been hospitalized with a collapsed lung and compound fractures to the entire right side of his body. He had been one of the front liners and in the thickest of the action right beside Harry._

_He had been beyond livid when he found out. He had mounted an expedition as soon as he was able and tracked Harry down…but not after he dealt with any conspirators permanently. Not even Albus Dumbledore had gotten in his path. _

_It had been a virtual bloodbath, but they succeeded. They were too late though to prevent what happened to Harry._

"_Later, alright?"_

_The second just raised a skeptical brow but nodded. He was avoiding it again. No matter, he'd pieced together what had happened when he went back to investigate the scene. The dragon corpse had begun rotting but helped to otherwise keep the place clear. _

_He needed to hear it from his commander to confirm his theories though. None of which looked good for their 'savior's' health. Harry's gaze had been off into space. _

"_I knew we had drifted apart after what happened to Hermione."_

"_Just thought it would take time, yeah know?" _

_The lieutenant couldn't really reply. How could he? They all knew about the jealousy Harry became the target of frequently, as irrational as it was. _

_He'd grown too used to it. Complacent and that's what cost him._

_If Neville were to be truly honest, he'd expected something like this a lot sooner than later. It was part of the reason he approached the commanding officers and requested to be switched into Harry's regiment._

"_He gave me this." His expression became shuttered as he regarded the piece, "said it would be a reminder of happier times." _

"_Ah."_

"_I just never expected it from him."_

"_It's war Harry. Hell on earth unleashed. The unexpected happens daily. What else do you expect?" _

"_For him to stick to by my side."_

"_Honestly? Even after everything he subjected you to, you thought that?"_

"_I couldn't afford not to." _

_Neville sighed a little before fishing something out of his jacket. Harry watched blankly as his second placed something over his eyes. The brunette grinned. _

"_Can't have everyone staring at you instead of listening to you now can we?"_

_The injured soldier's free hand went up and pulled off the glasses. They were…muggle? He looked at the other soldier who just shrugged. _

"_Thought you might like them."_

_Harry looked at the pair. They really weren't all that bad. In fact they were kind of cool._

"_You still blame yourself for them, don't you?" He looked up startled. _

"_No." _

"_Well, maybe not __**him**__, but for what happened to Sirius and Hermione."_

"_No. Not really."_

"_Careful. Grief is a funny thing Harry." _

_The teen looked up at his friend. The lieutenant never talked about himself…ever. In fact there was not one thing Harry could name that he knew about the boy other than his lived with his overbearing grandmother, had a talent for plants, and was the butt of every jeer that was sent their way at Hogwarts. If he were to admit it, Harry was actually ashamed that he hadn't taken the time out to really get to know his once housemate and now second-on-command._

"_You honestly think I wouldn't know the signs of someone grieving? That's why you weren't out there celebrating with the rest of them."_

_Neville smiled bitterly. After all, not many cared enough to look into the life of a klutzy, near orphaned boy who had to watch his parents waste away. It was like watching a terminally ill patient dying. The sense of helplessness was overpowering._

"_It's as common as your magic. We all experience it in some sort of similar fashion." _

"_But," he held up a hand to forestall Harry's inevitable protest, "it's as specific as even the incorrect pronunciation of the simplest spells like Wingardium Leviosa."_

"_We all deal with it differently." _

"_I know. I understand that perfectly." _

"_Do you? I'm not so sure." At a hard look the darker haired teen closed his mouth, "If you're the Harry I know, and I think you are, you believe you have control over your emotions. You'll bottle it away. Contained." _

"_But that's where you're all wrong, Neville. It doesn't affect me anymore. I've dealt with it." Neville stood up abruptly, and walked a few paces before turning around, shoulders squared. He turned and faced Harry, his brow wrinkled and a slight frown tugging on his features._

"_You're already underestimating it!" Neville raised his voice, his concern and frustration mounting, "underestimating the power of the nature of your emotions." _

"_It will come at you in waves, like an ocean's tide. It will come randomly, hitting you at unexpected times in unexpected places. You won't be ready for it no matter how much you prepare."_

"_How the things you expect to trigger grief don't. But little things that seem to have nothing to do with anything will knock you flat on your backside."_

"_Grief heightens some emotions, but dampens others to the point that they don't seem to be there anymore. It's…It's as if your heart isn't your own. Like it can't seem to make up its mind… like it doesn't know how to respond to anything anymore." _

"_It's a lot like a someone whose so stressed, so tired, who will laugh one moment and completely break down the next."_

"_I know Neville." _

"_No, no you don't Harry." _

"_It will haunt you for years to come. And it will never go away, not completely."_

"_I know."_

"_Here, yes." The taller teen tapped his temple, "but not here." His hand covered his heart. _

"_And then there's the anger…"_

"_What anger?" _

"…_and the blame." _

"_What __**blame?**__"_

"_You feel like your parents abandoned you, you blame them for it. They died that night and left you alone in the world. Sirius died and so left you alone. Ginny married another because of some old family contract, she left you. Dumbledore betrayed you by placing you with your relatives, by controlling your life, by turning you into a weapon, a figurehead…a rallying point." At Harry's incredulous look, "Yes I know, Harry. And now, Hermione's left you…she promised to be there at the end with you. To help see you through this enormous burden that was never yours to bear. To you they all have a part in the guilt and blame you place yourself just as you also blame them for leaving." _

"_I don't feel any anger or blame about 'Mione. I don't feel abandoned by her. She died in battle, fighting for her ideals. And my parents loved me. They sacrificed themselves willingly. And Sirius…"_

"_You're trying to rationalize your feelings? Grief is not a rational beast."_

"_I don't need to rationalize anything." _

"_Then you've forgiven them." _

"_Forgiven them? Why would I need to forgive them?"_

"_Have you?"_

"_I don't need to forgive them." _

"_Then you've moved on?"_

"_Yes."_

_There was a moment of silence as both wizards faced off silently. One tempered with understanding and concern and the other frustration and stubbornness. Harry sighed; Neville could be just as implacable as himself when the situation arose. He just wished it wasn't now of all times. _

"_You don't believe me." _

"_I believe that you believe you."_

"_But that's beside the point. I'm concerned that once you leave here. Once you leave this place that you'll throw yourself into whatever you can. To become reckless and do anything to numb your grief."_

"_You can't give in to that. You have to work through your grief, not around it." _

"_I've already worked through it. Thank you for you advice." _

"_You'd be surprised."_

"_Fine I'll keep that in mind, lieutenant." Harry's voice took a tone that said the conversation was done. Neville didn't give an inch, however he knew when an order was an order. Harry might be his friend but he was also his commander._

"_Of course."_

_Neville sat on the cot across from the other teen. Perhaps his message got through after all? He doubted that. Harry was just as stubborn as himself. However, they couldn't afford for him to be unstable, especially now. The emerald-eyed teen was a walking time bomb. He was close to breaking. He just needed one trigger, one event, and then who knew? _

_His warm, cinnamon eyes lit on the piece still clenched in the teen's fist. It had been there, forgotten. _

"_Is that why you're thinking about him?" _

"_Thinking about whom?" _

"_Ron. You've been playing with that king piece ever since you've woke up. I can tell Harry. He's all you've been focused on."_

"_He won't be coming back, Neville." _

"_Why is that? I would have thought you hoped to change his mind." _

_Harry Potter, figurehead for all of the bleeding hearts of the world. Wouldn't he want some semblance of the past to revive itself, if only to get some kind of closure? He had this infuriating way of taking compassion on most life forms they came across, why not his former best friend?_

"_Because," there was a hard glint in his eyes that Neville had never seen before. "I swore on my magic that the next time I saw him, I'd kill him."_

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N:_** (A minor revision)**_

Thank you all for the help!! I'm so appreciative and humbled. I do have one, erm, question?? thingy for all of you. Since I don't know what "**" means, does that mean something completely terrible and should never be said? I'll just assume that and try to fill in the blanks for now (is still scratching head).

Lol, I finished early, so Voila!! Here it is.

……

**For those of you who love skipping author's notes**, I'd strongly suggest you go back and read mine. It might help (just a tad) with those questions about magic and what not (like posting schedule and why the American side of magic is so unpredictable and different compared to the European method).

……

Brevan's character…

No matter how he acts, Harry is essentially an old man in a teen's body. He's been through and lived through too much to not be.

Another side note: since everyone, or just about, is making Harry the 'same age' (or younger) as Edward, I thought I'd break with tradition…again. Not by much mind you, but enough to be, well, different.

……

As for the blood and knife thing…err, Oops. In my defense I've been watching the Underworld and Blade trilogies recently so, erm; they sort of influenced my perceptions of vampires just a tad. It does make for a dramatic image though, don't you think? And…that's not taking wizards into account.

…

One of the stories I actually like is a tad similar to mine. I am not biting off the other and I don't think they are copying mine, but it's somewhat ironic how some elements and plot devices are nearly the same. You might know it: The Perfect Soldier by Dark Corners.

There's also Gives You Hell by Azzie Adams.

……

Recognition!! To the reviewer **AlixMM**, thank you. It was your comment in chapter 5 that inspired the entire 'Peeping Edward' episode. (See, it's the little things that count!!)

Also the **Father Gilbert Mysteries: In Memorium by Focus on the Family** (the sage advice about grief from Neville). After all, he would know all about that wouldn't he?

……

Alrighty then (*rubs hands together*). Let's see if I can answer your question **hindsight2020**. Please keep in mind that each system, while roughly the same, varies from state to state, I'm just giving you a (very) generalized overview of the public school system.

Elementary (or Primary) school starts at the Kindergarten level (5 & 6 years) and ends in either the 5th or 6th grades (11 & 12 years). They 'graduate' and feed into the next level education.

Junior High (school) covers the 7th and 8th grades (12 to 14 years)

Or

There is the Middle school (3 years mostly) option. Depending where you attend, it either starts in the 6th grade and ends in the 8th or starts in the 7th grade and ends in the 9th grade. Then there are the ones that start in the 6th grade and end in the 9th grade. Generally these fall into the private school category, but not always. (Where you attend determines what High school you get into.)

High schools (4 years) usually start at the 9th grade (freshman, 14-15 years) levels. Some do start at the 10th grade (sophomore, 15-16 years) if they are feeder schools from the middle school system. Then there is 11th grade (junior, 16-17 years) and 12th grade (seniors, 17-18 years). High school is a culture unto itself…from a galaxy far, far away…in another dimension.

The ages are generally from 13-18 years. They vary so much from grade to grade because there are cut off points for registration for each graduating class, and some birthdays fall before those dates and others fall after. Again that depends upon where you live. Now there are schools that do go from K-8th grade and then feed into high schools, but I can't tell more than that.

So the divisions about course work and education wise. Each grade has its own specific set of requirements that it has to meet. This puts everyone on relatively the same page academically. It also is tailored for their age groups and how to maximize the most learning while their cramming subjects into our brains.

……

In other news…

(*does a victory dance*) I have the ending song!! Finally!! It's been giving me headaches because I didn't want to have to resort to, well, Papa Roach or Linkin' Park or T.I. or The Game or… (Yeah, nothing fit…until now!)

Echo 2/18/2009


	8. The Perfect Soldier

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 8: The Perfect Soldier

* * *

"I have seen war. I have seen war on land and sea. I have seen blood running from the wounded. I have seen the dead in the mud. I have seen cities destroyed. I have seen children starving. I have seen the agony of mothers and wives. I hate war."

**-Franklin Delano Roosevelt-**

* * *

The glass crunched loudly as Harry stepped through the door. His gaze fixed on the groaning form a few feet out in the street. The holly wand loosely held in his grip.

The teen slowly stalked towards the older wizard, like a tiger hunting its prey. The wizard, who had come to, was scrambling away to the best of his ability. He was slightly disoriented and fumbling for his wand, all the while slipping on mud and crunching on the glass fragments.

Curious onlookers gathered on the corners, far enough away to keep out of range from any stray spells but close enough to witness everything. Stalls and stores were shuttering their windows and closing doors. The loud snapping and rattling was echoing in the tense silence.

Harry prowled till he was within a good twenty feet away from the man. His face blanked of any emotions. He was undecided as to whether to knock him out completely or interrogate him on the spot. The grip on his wand slightly tightened.

The sky had begun to mist lightly. A slight breeze swept through, ruffling through the short black locks. The only sounds that could be heard were those of the British wizard scrambling backwards as he tried to place distance between them. A white knuckled fist clenched onto his wand like a lifeline. He looked like a cornered animal.

Just as he found a solid foothold his body language changed instantly. Instead of retreating, he launched forward into a series of hexes and spells, forcing the teen to dodge to the side and duck to avoid getting hit. Harry was moving purely on instinct honed by the grueling battles he survived.

The wizard wasn't giving him an inch, sending spell upon spell. The man wasn't idle either as he was also maneuvering to keep distance between them. He was also preventing Harry from getting a shot off.

Pumping his magic into his legs, Harry began moving at an inhuman speed, allowing him to gain ground on the other man. He knew, as did his assailant, that if he got close enough he'd be able to overpower the other both in physical capabilities and magical.

He was a close combat, offensive specialist. Up close he was the worst opponent for mid to long range fighters, however distance was also his worse enemy.

Slipping in the mud, forced the young wizard to mind his footing as he sprinted towards the wizard. The man, sensing his intent, began layering spells one after another, like a semi-automatic, in quick succession.

Harry rolled out of the way just as a bone crushing hex sailed past where his knee used to be. At the same moment he dropped, Harry popped off a slicing hex before rolling out of the way.

When he heard the grunt of pain, Harry sent off a succession of concussion and slicing curses. He hoped to knock the man out before he had a chance to exploit his weakness with his strength.

One of the concussion curses hit its mark and caused the wizard to drop to his knees. Harry darted forward, intending to close the distance. He needed to finish this now.

Just as he was about to send a full body bind he was forced to duck out of the way. His assailant was back on his feet and sending curses back faster and wilder than before. He was still feeling the effects of the concussion curse if his wild flinging was any indication.

Harry began shooting off curses, trying to press his advantage. He had to down this man quickly. Harry felt the muscles in his wand arms twinge as he began to channel more and more magic. He grit his teeth.

The wizard seemed to have the Devil's Luck as every curse or hex just barely missed him or he slipped at the right time. His aim was becoming more focused as time slipped by.

Harry channeled magic into his legs and sprinted towards the wizard in a zigzag fashion, causing is already wild casting to fly by harmlessly. His free hand reached for his knife. If he couldn't end this decisively with magic then he'd have to do without.

A crushing hex caught him by surprise, knocking the blade away and rendering the hand useless. Harry ducked to the side before stepping within range. He cocked back his fist and smashed it across the man's jaw, snapping back his head hard.

His assailant stumbled and finally fell, unable to regain his bearings. It would take some time before the man would completely recover from the multiple concussions he received. Harry stood there breathing hard and blood dripped from his ruined hand.

He knew he shouldn't have hesitated in a course of action after he'd already had the advantage of the situation. There was nothing he could do about that now.

He holstered his wand. There wouldn't be any need of it now. The man was too far gone and he was in no mood to interrogate.

Harry took a deep breathe. His adrenaline was still high as was his blood pressure. He needed to calm down before anything acted up. His magic was still singing underneath his skin.

Harry chanced a look around, the onlookers, who'd ducked behind corners and barrels were all coming out seeing as the quarrel was over. Shops began opening up again.

A large splotch of water splashed across his head causing his to look up. The rain had started to fall heavily. A groan alerted him to the fact that the man at his feet was coming to. Apparently he'd underestimated the man's resilience to taking blows. He looked down and found the man's gaze.

His bloodshot eyes were trained on his target, though they were slightly unfocused. His sallow skinned features and unshaven face twisted in an ugly sneer even as they began to swell from where the punches had landed. Mud and glass decorated his clothing.

"Who'd 'ave though' lil' poppet actually 'as fight in 'im."

"We'd all though' tha' old codg'r 'ad 'is nails in you, declawed ya 'e did."

Harry looked coldly at the man. He knew that he was just a messenger. If he killed him now they would send another and another until he was retrieved. That wasn't even counting whatever influence the other faction had once they found out his whereabouts.

"How did you find me."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The temperature of the immediate area dropped. The rain began spattering harder.

"This is a magically blind country. There would be no way for you to track me. _How did you find me?_"

"It was by chance really."

"Explain."

"Why?"

"Because I can disembowel you right now and you could never breathe a word to your master."

"Too late for that."

Harry nearly snarled. Assaulting the man wouldn't do him any good now.

"When are they coming?"

"You'll know, Poppet."

The message would have been passed on already, they would know his general location, however knowing the wizards, they'd wait until he was in a place where they could use their own brand of magic. That meant he was relatively protected for the time being.

"You always was a failure."

"For you, maybe."

"You ain't got your guard dog 'round no more."

Harry said nothing. Neville was long gone and now all he had was himself to protect.

"Or was 'e your master, eh?"

"I am no one's pet."

"Oh, but you are." He chuckled humorlessly, "You are."

"Never."

"You're 'ours the moment you was…giv'n to us."

Harry crouched down, gripping the man's hair and bringing him to eye level. He pulled off his sunglasses pinning the wizard with a penetrating glare. His grubby, rugged features paled before a sneer covered up the fear

"You go back to your master and you tell him, tell him if he wants me he'll have to come himself. Or better yet, send his pet _rat_. I'll be waiting."

Harry shoved the other man down before standing. He replaced his glasses before anyone else could get a good look. He didn't feel like answering superfluous questions.

Without another word he went to where his blade had fallen, swept it up and strode towards the entrance. The downed wizard called out after him causing the teen to stop just before the entrance.

His day was ruined. He'd have to come back later to pick up that book and supplies.

"Once you walk beyond them totems you's as good as muggle."

"I know." He turned around, "but so are you. You'd do well to remember that."

With that he stepped out the entrance, intent on returning to Forks. Harry was in no humor to be around others at the moment. This little run in had just reminded him more forcefully as to why he left England in the first place.

A vicious snarl was his only warning sending him ducking to the side. He turned around just in time to see the spell splash against the natural magical barrier like water across glass.

Just beyond he could see the wounded man glaring hatefully at him. His yellowy teeth bared.

"You'll never be normal, freak. No matter 'ow you pretend t' be."

"I'm no more freak than you."

"We'll 'ave you yet."

"Hn."

Harry disappeared into the shadows. He just wanted to get back to Forks. He had to get back and take care of his wound.

And think of an excuse for it when he returned to school. If he wore his usual hoodie, he could probably get away with most of the school being none the wiser. He wasn't quite sure if his vampiric neighbors would be so fooled though.

In his experience he knew they had extraordinary senses and some a few with gifts. Thankfully they were rare. He doubted that his tutor would miss such a detail or his project partner, even if she was rather consumed with herself.

Harry grimaced as the adrenaline wore off and the pain from his hand began to pulse. Thankfully he had a supply of potions back at the house, his field ration kit actually. Not enough to completely heal his hand, but enough to mostly repair the bones and a bit of the damage. He had to make it last until he could go back to the alley and get the ingredients or buy already made potions.

He made his way through the shop that disguised the entrance of the alley. It sold music for the Seattle underground, grunge from various local bands and what not. There were a variety of other genres in the selection but more the immediate community.

It was the kind of place where most 'respectable' people would avoid. Teenagers and young adults frequented the area as a local hangout. There was a pub across the street and a coffee shop right next door, along with various clothing shops and knick knacks stores.

Stereotypical, yes.

Out of the way, certainly.

…And a completely and perfectly clever cover disguise for the front of the Alley.

No magic needed to hide the entrance really. The area in general was a turn off to a majority of the most curious of folk. And the area around the gate had a feeling that generally gave the non-magical populace an extremely bad case of vertigo if they came within a certain distance of the entrance.

Harry gave a sigh of relief as he stepped out the front doors into the streets. He would have to get over his fear of magic. He knew he had to.

He considered that his being able to go into the alley a small triumph. His actions today were very much drawn upon experience and reflex. He was able to switch modes in order to fight. To separate the part of him that had feelings for the emotionless soldier within.

It was what allowed him to survive during the bloodiest of battles and the aftermath without breaking down completely. People thought him strong, he felt detached. As if reality didn't touch him.

And that was why he decided to leave.

A water droplet splashed across Harry's head, drawing his attention skywards. The clouds had grown darker with the hour. Parts were beginning to light up in the distance as their muffled roars rolled across the sky.

Harry pushed sunglasses up on the bridged of his nose, securing them. His hand throbbed, bringing his attention back to the present. With a small shrug he pulled his jacket closer, hiding his injured hand.

He still had a long drive back and it looked like a storm was rolling in. Harry gave a small shake of his head before turning and disappearing into the crowded streets.

* * *

"_Harry?" _

_The voice of his lieutenant broke through the haze of pain. He couldn't see clearly, everything was blurry. _

"_Harry, can you hear me?"_

_All he felt was the coldness of the stone he was crumpled against. The only coherent thought he had was focused of his friend's voice. His world was nothing but pain. _

_He felt the warm, strong hands of his friend turn him over and lift him gently up. One felt his forehead and he could barely make out the hiss that escaped Neville. _

"_What did they do to you?"_

_He barely cracked open a heavily glazed over eye before succumbing to darkness. Only one thought shot through his mind. _

'_It's over.' _

* * *

Emmett snuck a glance at this mate, making sure to think of the mundane in order to shield his mind from Edward's probes. He didn't want to give anything away.

The large vampire wondered what shook his mate up. It had to be something big and, if he suspected correctly, most likely had something to do with her gift.

The male was actually much more observant than he was given credited for. As much as the others would tease him for being dull witted, he was a remarkable judge of character and the most levelheaded aside from Carlisle in a crisis.

He knew that some considered his and Rosalie's relationship to be in the superficial level. After all if they were human, they could be considered cheerleader and football jock material. A relationship based on looks and not on anything of substance. And the two pulled it off beautifully.

What the others didn't suspect is that they observed. They watched and they could tell the character of another, good or bad.

Rosalie might have been raised ignorant and superficial, but that was many years ago and time and experience had tempered that view. War, hardship, prejudice they had all taken a toll and tempered her views of the world and human nature.

The vampire 'children' pulled into the garage of their home after another tedious day at school. Jasper came home with them surprisingly enough, said that his 'pupil' wasn't there for tutoring. The drive itself was about a half hour to forty-five minutes.

It was late afternoon and the light misting gave way to heavier showers. The visibility was rapidly declining, even for their superior senses.

Esme's greeting from the kitchen reached their ears and they murmured their greetings back. It was a tradition that had carried over from their mortal lives that none of them could part with.

They each separated ways. Edward to his room and piano, Jasper and Alice to their own for some collective peace and quiet, while Emmett gently grasped Rosalie's wrist and tugged her towards the kitchen, leaving their bags by the kitchen entrance.

Both wanted to have privacy to speak but that was near impossible with a family like theirs. With Jasper being as perceptive as he was, Edward reading minds, and Alice being unpredictable with her visions, secrets weren't kept very long.

It was a miracle that they hadn't them figured out yet. Of course that could be because they didn't act like she had a gift of any type either or actively utilize it.

"Esme?"

"Hm, Emmett, Rosalie, what is it you need?"

"We're going hunting, spread the word, please?"

The Cullen matriarch just smiled tenderly and nodded. She recognized the need for the couple to have some alone time, even under the guise of a hunt.

"Of course, stay safe."

Whether or not they were fully grown when they came to them, they were still her and Carlisle's children. And she loved being a mother, if only in some small way.

Rosalie was already out the door with Emmett slowly ambling out behind her. He gave Esme a kiss on the cheek and took off after his beloved.

"Will do."

* * *

Harry hissed as he threw back the potion. The taste wasn't all that much to begin with but the burning made it seem worse. It felt like liquid fire was sliding down his throat.

He hated the field rations. They were half baked and sometimes did more harm than good. He'd watched too many on the field succumb to them to not develop an aversion to the kits.

However as with all things bloody, gruesome and war related, they were unfortunately needed. It wasn't long before (and with Neville's help) that he could tell the somewhat decent ones from the trash.

Harry winced as he felt it start to work. The bones in his hand began roughly knitting back together. It wasn't a strong enough dosage as it was watered down, but in the field it would have been enough to help him survive until he could get back to a medical facility.

Still as it stood he was sure it would help him get through the day or at least until he was able to make it back to Seahawk's Alley. There was a doctor's office there he was sure.

He couldn't very well set up a potions lab in his home. It was too risky and the facilities were, well, less than suitable for living as it was. Well, until he was able to anchor those totems and use his magic. He'd have to find a non ritualistic way to do that. Maybe a local medicine man would be kind enough to help?

Shaking his head, the teen replaced the phial in the small durable rucksack he normally carried into combat. It had a small charm that allowed it to carry about twice to three times its maximum carrying weight. It was how he was able to survive the few times he was left stranded behind enemy lines.

And it was now filled with emergency rations for the potions he would need to survive. He had made sure that it was adequately stocked before he took off. He wasn't sure of what he would run into in the Americas or if he would be followed.

Harry sighed and flopped back onto the sleeping bag he'd been using for the past two months. The sudden disruption in his magical abilities had put his schedule back for the outfitting of his house, not that he truly minded. The gloomy atmosphere suited his current mood.

The situation still annoyed him when he thought about it. Even if he grounded the native totems, the magic he'd done before would have to stay intact. That meant he still had to deal with squeaky floor mats, shedding banisters, and biting faucets.

Not that it meant all that much in the end. He'd have his magic back in full order and his stay in the small town would be more comfortable in the long run.

Harry sighed and examined his hands against the lamp light. The florescent, white light lit across the reminders of battle and bloodshed in the form of ragged scars.

He could already see the telltale bruising of the magical backlash forming on his injured arm. They were much more distinct and deeper in color than the regular, normal blotches that showed up from the reparations of the potions.

Another reminder of how he was different after his experiences. He bit back a sigh, it was bound to happen. He just had to find a way to disguise the rest of side effects when they came. He just hoped he was home when they inevitable came.

Harry reached over and flipped off the light before burrowing into his sleeping bag. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

The skies were darkening into a thunderous black, choking out the last vestiges of light. The night slipped away as two blurs shot through the undergrowth, unhindered by the lack of visual light.

Neither was showing any signs of stopping. The larger of the two called out.

"Rosalie."

"Not now."

The blonde didn't even turn her head as she answered tersely. It seemed that her thoughts were otherwise occupied.

Not quite understanding the urgency of their pace, nor the anxiety that seemed to be permeating his normally implacable mate, Emmett tried to reason with her. They weren't hunting and he doubted the rest of the clan had followed them. The only possibility of their secret being found out was if Alice had a vision of them, though he highly doubted that would be the case.

"But-"

"We're not far enough."

"We're at least a good three to four hou-"

"Not yet."

"-rs out...Why not?" Emmett tried not to cringe at the whine that somehow traitorously snuck into his voice. It didn't help his protective image any.

He couldn't help that years of ingrained habits around his family, reinforcing an image of himself around them, made an appearance. Normally he wouldn't have even bothered as it wasn't of any use in the long run anyways. But then again he was having too much fun to stop…it had to be a sibling thing.

Without warning the blonde came to an abrupt halt nearly causing Emmett to come crashing into her. Only his vampiric reflexes saved him from bowling her over.

"Wha-"

"Hush." The blonde held up a hand, stopping Emmett from replying while she seemed to listen for something. It was a good half hour before she relaxed a bit.

"Good, no one followed."

"I kinda figured."

Emmett rubbed the back of his neck in a very human gesture. It was one of the habits he couldn't give up over the years.

Rosalie glared at her mate. Really, if she hadn't known he had more depth than he pretended most of the time, she would have tossed off the side of a cliff decades ago.

"Well good for you."

Emmett grimaced. It looked like it was going to be one of those nights where Rosalie was going to continually bite his head off for offenses unknown…or she was extremely agitated by something.

"Alright, you want to tell me what all this was about? I had to bite my tongue and think up batting averages all afternoon to keep Edward at bay."

"And a good thing too."

Even in the near pitch black of the forest Emmett could make out his blonde mate, however she was still facing away from him. With a mental sigh he darted in front so he could read her better. It was at times like this he wished he had Edward's ability rather than being built like a tank amongst vampires. Emmett crossed his arms and pinned her with a look.

"Alright, Rose. What gives?"

It was a moment before the blonde spoke. Her voice was tight plainly telling him that something was bothering to her.

"You remember the last time I showed you the strings, right?"

The male vampire nodded. When his mate had showed him her gift it was an interesting way to look at the world and all of the potential couples in it. Especially the vampires as it showed up clearly in brighter colors where the mortal humans were more muted.

"I saw them today."

At Emmett's startled expression, Rosalie pushed on. It was a rare occasion indeed if she saw the souls ties activated. Unlike Alice or Edward, Rosalie had almost absolute control over her gift and when it activated.

"Did yo-"

"No." the curt response cut him off before the he completed the question. Puzzled the male waited for her to explain. To his knowledge it never activated without Rosalie's conscious will.

"How can that be?"

"I…don't know."

"But Rose, you have control, how could you not know?"

"I just don't, though I have a theory."

Now Emmett knew he wasn't as intellectually intelligent as his adopted siblings, and neither was his mate for that matter. They were more of the street smart, levelheaded types. However, even they had their moments.

"Care to share?"

"Do you remember back when you first came to the family," at this Emmett nodded, but didn't get where she was going with this line of thought, "And you decided to pursue me?"

"Yes."

"I know Carlisle explained to you the consequences of a correct choice and an incorrect one."

"Uh, yeah." the large vampire rubbed the back of his neck, that was one memory he wanted to forget. It gave him the vampiric version of nightmares, "Something about singing and flirting and…stuff." he ended lamely. True he remembered the horror of the conversation but not the content word for word.

"Emmett."

"What?! That was years ago, Rose. I don't remember all of it."

"You should," the blonde snapped, "it is, after all, tied to me."

The large vampire stepped toward his agitated mate. He spoke in earnest, trying to get her to talk to him.

"Love, what's this about? You said you saw the strings."

"Yes I did."

"What did you see? Or better yet, who was it attached to?"

"It was attached to Jasper's…student."

Rosalie could almost see the light bulb turn on in her husband's head. At least he was more perceptive than what often displayed to the family.

"The neighbor guy? That dude who you're partnered with? The one who kicked Edward's ass? Really?"

"Yes, really."

Though, she quietly mused, his communication skills could use some brushing up. At least she could depend on him to be a good judge of character. As well as keeping secrets just that, secret.

Perhaps she was just annoyed that she actually saw one of those strings on, well, that guy? Somehow Emmett didn't think that was the case. True, she always had something colorful to say about her English project partner, but that hardly was a reason to be so agitated about the sighting. She probably saw a dozen or so strings daily at will.

Of course she could have just let her attention wonder and used it subconsciously. But then again that seemed highly unlikely.

So Emmett waited.

It wasn't long before Rosalie sighed. After all, it wasn't like taking her frustration out on Emmett ever did any good anyways.

"Em, it was red."

"Wha-"

"The soul string…was blood red." She met his eyes squarely for the first time, "a bright, _clear_, blood red." Realization dawned in his features.

"No way."

The look his wife was giving him left him astonished. There was no way absolutely that that was possible.

"But you said only, well, people like us were clearly visible."

"And that was true. The only ones I've seen this clearly were vampires, the Denali clan you remember?"

"Oh…Oh, you mean when what's her name wanted to mate with Edward you scanned to see if she was compatible and that's why you put up such a fuss, because they weren't at all?"

"Emmett…that was _decades _ago."

"But you don't use your gift."

"Not like Alice or Edward, but we're getting off topic."

"So…what now?"

"I don't know. What do you think we should do?"

Emmett was taken aback. He might be her mate, but he rarely if ever put his foot in Rosalie's business especially when it concerned her ability.

"That's why I'm asking you love, it's your gift."

"I think we should follow him, or at least get to know him."

"Why?"

"To keep an eye on him."

"He hasn't done anything, so, why should we?"

"Because you know as well as I that the only way I can see a string that clearly is if they are like us."

"Which means…" Emmett's eyes were widening at the implications.

"Which means Brevan Hunter either is a vampire or isn't completely human."

It took a moment for the larger vampire to wrap his head around everything. And when the revelation hit him like a ton of bricks, he summed it up nicely.

"Well…Crap."

* * *

It was well into the school day before Jasper saw the person of his family's interest. Brevan was actually coming along quite nicely as it was only his third month into schooling and he had advanced at quite a pace.

The blonde was in the library going over some paper and assignments form his class as well as Brevan's. They had a deadline to keep after all.

Jasper didn't even glance up when a familiar book bag thudded on the table accompanied by an annoyed sigh. It wasn't until his companion flopped into one of the chairs and buried his head in his arms that the blonde vampire looked up and inspected his study partner. It wasn't until the other teen lifted his head up that Jasper got a good look at him.

The bruise along Brevan's jaw line looked pretty nasty actually. It wasn't the kind that puffed out and purpled. Rather, it looked like the later bloomers that bruised down to the bone and spread across in a slight, smudgy shade that made him look dirty instead of injured. It must hurt like hell.

"What happened to you?"

He didn't get a very good look at his fellow year mate before the teen seemingly fell asleep in his arms again. He was able to see that his friend was extremely tired, as though he hadn't slept a wink the night before. Of course that could have been because his reply was muffled.

"Oh, just a fight with my kitchen sink." At Jasper's skeptical look he nonchalantly continued, "What? It's a vicious, little bugger. But I showed it whose boss."

"Uh, huh."

Well the excuse seemed plausible enough…in his head. Harry shrugged. But then again, Jasper probably didn't have to live with the spigot.

"Anyways, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"No, I will not go on a date with you."

Jasper's annoyance flared. He threw a glare at the other male. As if anyone could compare to Alice.

"That's not what I wanted to ask."

Harry waved off the glare. He had worse anyways. Annoying Jasper was just a little payback for all the extra assignments that he shoved on him.

"Then don't act like a bashful school girl. Out with it."

Jasper mulled over his next words very carefully. He knew that Brevan wasn't not someone who was easily cowed nor was he one to play coy or idiot. He actually was rather blunt, especially in their tutoring sessions and he didn't understand something about government structure.

Also the interaction with Edwards and the after effects of their first encounter showed him that he didn't particularly like word play. That was especially if he saw someone as a hostile force to be dealt with.

"How do you know what we are?"

Harry looked up in surprise, his eyebrows arching over his glasses. He knew Jasper had some questions, especially after his last confrontation with the pervert. However the blonde hadn't asked and Harry honestly thought he never would.

His tutor seemed like the quiet introverted type. He didn't expect for the other teen to be blunt. It just didn't seem to be his style. Harry rested his chin on his good hand and studied the vampire. He could only make out curiosity. He preferred that to the veiled hostility that his brother confronted him with.

"Well," Harry's brows furrowed, he hadn't really put much thought into his past. He hadn't really expected there to be anything of the supernatural nature either, "you see…"

"Yes?"

"That is to say…"

"Hm?"

"It's erm, like this…"

"Uh huh."

Harry glared at the blonde. His veins were beginning to pop.

"Will you stop that?!"

"No." Jasper cheerfully replied, "you seemed a bit…bashful about it, I'd though I'd help you along." He smirked, "you know, a little encouragement."

"Now you're just being annoying."

"Takes one to know one."

"Right."

"Anyways, you were explaining?"

"I was wasn't I…" Harry's tone held a fake contemplative quality, "care to remind me where I left off?"

Jasper sent him a bland look. Edward was bad enough with his moods. But having to deal with an equally sarcastic and witty student who could go toe-to-toe with him was just plain aggravating, especially when he knew it too.

"You said that we_ felt_ the same."

"Err…"

"And you were able to neutralize Edward."

Harry wondered how he would field this. He never was good at explaining a reasonable scenario, that was more of Hermione's field. She could come up with somewhat believable lies (after all he just had to point to his first year). He had also been…preoccupied with other matters as well.

He never was good with hiding his emotions. Harry was more of the bottle-everything-up type and then when it got to be too much, exploded outwards. It had made his temper quick and his anger an easy escape.

"Well?"

"You could say that I was trained in extrasensory perception."

"Extrasensory perception." Jasper spelled it out slowly. "Like paranormal?"

Harry stared. If it hadn't been such a ridiculous situation, and he hadn't been so tired, he would have been laughing.

"You actually believe me?" Harry hissed at the vampire. Really it shouldn't have taken him by surprise, but he never figured his tutor for gullible. Not that he was lying, just not completely telling the truth. And magic could be considered paranormal…right?

"What else would you have me believe?" the other male replied archly, raising a brow, "You know of our kind, you fought Edward and managed to stay on an even footing with him, you don't move like a normal mortal, you accept what should be impossible, and…"

Jasper paused. There was so much more he could say to the mortal teen, though he wasn't sure that said male was completely human. After all, their circumstances weren't completely normal, for himself anyways.

"And?"

Amber eyes considered the other male. He wasn't remarkable handsome, but he wasn't exactly plain either. He was a study in contrasts if anything.

Brevan was war weary (combat fatigue, if he read him right) and yet carefree, tired and yet energetically feisty, kind and cool. He was so much more and at the same time so far behind in his schooling.

"…And you are many more things that you shouldn't be."

Now that got Harry's attention. What was the vampire picking up off of him and what was giving him away. He was fairly certain that he had done everything in his power to remain practically invisible even in this small school.

Well there was the fact that his tutor was extremely intelligent and observant. That was aside from his vampiric traits. Harry had met more than his fair share of dull-witted undead to know the difference. The verbal sparring wasn't nearly as fun either (especially when they didn't get insults. It was rather pitiful actually. One would think that having supernatural abilities might help in the mental department).

The younger teens eyes' widened, just as he was about to retort, when he realized what he was about to say.

Harry decided that now was a good time to exit. He had only come to drop off his assignments anyways and he really didn't have any questions for Jasper.

Explaining led to questions. Too many questions led to answers and knowledge. Knowledge meant possible danger for his new…acquaintances and anyone else. Ones that he wasn't ready to answer partially because of who was coming after him and partially because he really just wanted to forget.

Harry felt something twist in his stomach as everything suddenly became too small, the atmosphere to restricting and oppressive, a cold sweat started to break out on he forehead. He knew one thing and it was that he had to get out…_now_.

The ex-soldier blindly grabbed for his bag, slapping down his papers in the process, and almost ran for the exit, leaving a confused vampire behind. It wasn't until after the doors slammed shut that Jasper blinked.

Jasper had been startled by the abrupt escape and stared at the doors for a moment before hurriedly packing his bag and chasing after him. He had felt something just before Brevan had escaped. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

How stupid was he?

Harry was silently cursing up a storm as he fled the library. Him and his big mouth.

He growled before turning and punching a nearby locker with his good hand. He couldn't have any attachments here. He wouldn't allow it.

His tongue was slipping and he wasn't exactly being discreet. And now someone was interested.

That had sent his mental swearing into another rant. He was just supposed to come here, finish what little education he had left, and maybe graduate college. That was it. No attachments, no curiosity, and definitely nothing supernatural. And yet here he was, fraternizing with vampires, getting into duels, and drawing unwanted attention to himself.

Harry glared. He had to stop this while it was still in the early stages.

The companionship that the vampire had supplied was getting too familiar. He'd already let slip that he was far from normal but that didn't mean he needed a full blown investigation by the Busybodies Anonymous Organization.

No more…friendship. Nothing could be left to indicate that he was opening up. He couldn't afford it.

He had no idea what the blonde vampire saw in him, he hadn't exactly been all that friendly to begin with and down right ornery when it came to his schooling. They hadn't associated outside of their time in the library, despite the fact that they were both in their junior year.

Harry shook his head, trying to keep from hyperventilating. His temper and irrationality surfaced at the worst of times, like now. He took some deep breaths and tried to calm the panicking rolls of his gut. It took him a while before he recognized what had made him bolt.

Panic.

He had felt it before. It was a side effect of the war. It had been a while since he felt it, but why now? Especially, when _now _was definitely not the time for a panic attack.

Harry was able to get his breathing down to a somewhat normal rate after a monumental effort in self control. It was something he picked up over the years when he was forced into a position of leadership and expected to lead his men even when he felt as they did.

Jasper would probably be coming after him, he thought. Especially after that exit. Harry sighed internally he really did have the worst timing when it came to things like this.

He was being irrational and hasty, something that Susan never quite beat out of him. It wasn't like he tied himself to anything yet so all the drastic measure he was thinking up might not be that necessary. He just needed to be more cautious in the future.

The day was shot anyways. He might as well head out and he was dead tired. He didn't want to make anymore irrational decisions if he could help it.

Shouldering his backpack once more, Harry headed towards the parking lot at a brisk pace. There was still half a day left and he really didn't want to spend more time here. And he was beginning to feel the aftereffects of his magical shootout.

* * *

It took a few minutes before he reached the intersection that led to the parking lot. He'd allowed his mind to wonder. It had been a while since he had his last episode and normally he was able to keep it relatively controlled.

He'd also had his magic to help subdue his body. He supposed that since he was in effect rendered magically disabled, he would be more prone to these experiences or was he finally adjusting to all the shock and trauma of the last two and a half years? Or would that be the last sixteen years? He'd probably bet on it.

He didn't' know but that didn't matter now. Especially now, after all was said and done.

Harry shook himself out of his morose thoughts. He had to get home and rest. He still hadn't recovered completely and it was beginning to wear on him.

Just as he brought his head up, he ran into something. The impact caused him to stumble and land on his backside, causing him to grunt when he landed.

Rubbing his slightly stinging nose, the teen looked up and found the obstruction similarly sprawled on the floor across from him. The apology on his lips died when he got a good look at the teen. And by the expression on the other's face, he realized just who he'd run into as well, if the scowl was anything to go by.

"We have to stop meeting like this." Harry remarked wryly as he picked himself up and dusted himself off, "someone might get the wrong impression you know."

"There's no one here." Edward replied flatly, he was already up and smacking the dirt from his jeans. He'd been on his way to pull Jasper from the library when something ran into him. That something turned out to be none other than Brevan Hunter.

"So you say." Harry looked around in exaggerated paranoia, "you never know when the wracklkespurts are lurking."

Edward tried to mind probe the idiot and found nothing but little furry fuzz balls with enormous eyes and wriggling antennae. The coppery haired vampire's eyebrow began twitching.

"Right."

Harry seeing no reason why he should stay, and wanting to avoid Jasper at the moment, started towards the parking lot entrance. There was only lunch and the last classes of the day anyways it wasn't like he was missing much.

He hadn't gotten two steps before he found his way blocked. All humor and what little control he had left over his temper quickly faded. He was tired, tightly wound from his attack earlier, and extremely stressed. He didn't need this right now.

"Move."

"No."

The two stood at an impasse. Harry knew he was at a disadvantage both physically and mentally at the moment. He didn't know if the pervert guessed or not. Not that it mattered. The dark haired teen had an inkling of just what this was going to be about and he was not in the mood to play.

Jasper had caught up to where they were and stopped at a distance, not drawing attention to himself. He wanted to observe them. If what he felt from Brevan earlier was any indication of what the teen's past was like, he thought it would be a good idea to try and find out more.

"What do you want, Cullen."

"What is it _you_ want Hunter."

"Flowers would be nice, perhaps a box of chocolates? Lilies are my favorite you know."

Edward blinked. That was not the answer he was expecting. Of course, considering their last meeting he shouldn't have been surprised.

Annoyed and tired as he was, Harry never passed up a good opportunity to prank, even if it was only verbal. So after a moment he theatrically threw up his arms in a 'why me' gesture.

"Amateurs. I swear, all that bloody good humor wasted on them."

Of course the lech had to be a complete deadbeat as well. Harry's eye brows furrowed. He still had to get around the idiot.

"Look, unless you're going to order a pizza for me as an apology for your rude behavior, nothing. Now move along, move along," he made a shooing motion that was reminiscent of and elderly matron escorting children out the door.

Edward, hardly used to being treated like a child, growled. Normally he would have been able to keep his composure under lock and key, but somehow this _annoyance _always got under his skin, with ease.

"You know our secret, what we are. How could you _not_ want something."

"If I demand money will you leave me alone?" The slightly hopeful tone in his voice did nothing to appease the agitated vampire. He glared at the other teen's glasses. Since he couldn't make eye contact and the only thought his mental sweeps could come up with were those ridiculous fuzzy things, it was hard to read him.

"Is that what it takes?"

"You tell me."

"I just did." More than a little annoyed and on the verge of a tantrum, Harry glared stubborn male, "fine. I want five million a year every year before I die. There happy?"

"No."

"Look, you bloody, arrogant prick, I really don't give a damn about what you are."

"You should."

"Why? Go bite someone else or better yet yourself."

Edward, even as annoyed as he was, studied his…neighbor. He hadn't really taken the time to do just what the last two times they met. Harry decided that he was going to be as unhelpful as he could. And his injured arm was beginning to hurt.

"You…are different."

"Wow, your powers of perception astound me."

"Why are you so agitated?"

"Leave me alone."

"Why?"

"Are you just the nosey type or do you just like wasting my time?"

"Perhaps I'm a little of both."

"Good for you, excuse me."

Edward was getting frustrated. It seemed everything he was doing was either antagonistic or demanding, neither of which he though himself as.

"Look, we started out on the wrong note," he tried again, "allow me to introduce myself, I'm Edward Cullen."

"You already said that the first time we…met." Harry cocked his head to the side, "are you in a habit of introducing yourself randomly to people or what?"

Edward glared. The annoyance was getting to him again and they both knew it.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"How about courteous."

"Let me be right with you. You know me, I know you. I'm going to assume you used your astounding powers of observation and learned my name."

"Good we're acquainted. Now get this through your thick skull, I don't like you. You don't like me. I don't want to be anywhere near you. You don't want to be anywhere near me. We will **only** be strangers. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"Good."

Harry tried to side step the other male in an attempt to get around him. He was done, finished and he wanted to take a nap. Edward though stepped in his way, forcing the wizard to look at him.

"However we are neighbors, and therefore need to be on good terms to exist peacefully."

Harry withheld the urge to throw a tantrum right then and there. He was tired, his hand was aching and he was nursing a royal headache from all the bookwork he was forcing into his brain. He just wanted to head back home.

"No we don't. You just keep away from me."

"Why? You seem (relatively) harmless enough."

"_What?_"

Edward didn't back down, even as the other teen's body language changed. He wanted answers and he was fairly sure that Brevan wasn't going to try anything here at school.

"What is it you're hiding?"

"Shove off."

"No."

"Why are you annoying me?"

"You…interest me."

"Well you don't interest me, now go away."

Edward was not going to give up until he had his answers. The coppery haired vampire spotted the semi-covered hand wrapped in black athletic tape. It was shaking slightly.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"None of your bloody business."

"Obviously it is."

"No it's not, now buzz off."

"Just let me have a look."

"Why? You have a fetish or something?"

"No. I have a medical degree."

Harry for his part just wanted to get away from this being. He didn't really believe the other male and he didn't really care. There was no way he was going to hand over his limb to a hostile idiot.

"Good Lord. Just leave me alone."

"Why?"

"Because."

"That isn't an answer."

"Fine, because I said so. Now go away."

"Not until I get some answers."

Harry gave the vampire a hard glare, not that he could see it. It was irritating that he had to repeat himself to the stubborn pervert, not that he was helping.

"Why? It's none of your business."

"It is when you pose a threat to my family."

"Who spied on whom? Who attacked whom? Who threatened whom?"

Edward glared right back. He was not going to let this go.

Jasper was beginning t see why their first meeting had ended so violently. They did everything thing in their power to annoy the other. The blonde's head had been pinging back and forth between the two.

It was actually somewhat admirable that his student could get Edward riled up in any manner. He just hoped he didn't have to intervene between the two.

"If I'd known you were going to be so bothersome, I'd have stayed in Seattle."

"Why did you come to Forks?"

"Bugger off."

"You're not a vampire hunter, are you?"

"If I said yes would you leave me alone?"

"So you are one."

"I never said that."

"You implied."

"I did not. You made your own assumptions."

"You had training from somewhere."

"…And?"

"It would explain how you were able to sneak up on me and fight me on somewhat even terms."

"You're just too arrogant." Harry smirked, "it wasn't that hard."

"And you're being evasive."

"So?"

"Why do you protest so much?"

"Why does anyone protest under duress?"

"You tell me."

"Umm…no."

Harry shifted his feet. He didn't like that this threat was getting so close to him and that there was nothing he could do about it. He barely kept his good hand from massaging his aching injured one. It was beginning to throb.

"Look I don't care if you beg, plead or coerce me, I'm not going to tell you anything."

He had thought the vampire would at least afford him the courtesy of space. They could verbally spare at another time. Unfortunately the copper haired male didn't get the hint.

"Now, about that knife of yours…"

"Are you normally this annoying towards people you've met oh, say, twice?"

"No, just you."

"Aren't I lucky?"

"Privileged."

"That was a rhetorical question."

"I know."

"There's something called privacy, I hope you've heard of it."

Harry was nearly snarling at the vampire, his already thin patience. He'd felt his magic begin to pulse down his arm and injured hand. The muscles begin to spasm and sharp pains began to speed up his arm.

'_Not now, not now, please, not now…'_

"Look, read my lips, Peace and quiet." His voice took on a condescending tone, "now repeat what I just said."

"Peace and quiet."

"Good. Now you have your answer. Go away."

Edward didn't move. He'd begun to notice several things that didn't add up throughout the course of their…conversation.

The doctor in him began to analyze the teen when the male snarled, "Is something so simple so hard for you to comprehend?"

"No."

Harry pointed towards the empty hall leading to the cafeteria, "exit that way."

And he pushed his way past. He wasn't going to stay here another minute and the magic was beginning to pulse through his injured arm. It seemed that the first stages of the backlash were finally appearing and he didn't want to be anywhere near society when it was happening. He kept his arm rigid and tried to move it. The pain was worsening.

Edward watched the teen go, unsure of what to do. He knew something was wrong, he just couldn't figure what.

Neither noticed the trail of dark blood Harry left behind.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: Hi ya'll!! I hope you've been enjoying fandom and the New Year. It's incredibly hard getting back into 'the groove' of writing after, well, being on hiatus of sorts. Granted it was a forced hiatus… (For those of you who don't know, I had to basically reformat and reinstall my entire hard drive.)

Anyways, here ya go!! A good knuckle crunching brawl, some clues to the past, a medical situation involving Harry's wellbeing, a sprinkle of Jasper, a pinch of Rosalie, a dash of Emmett, and a scoop of annoying Edward to top it all off.

Not bad if I do says so myself. No worries some of the not-so-happy-soon-to-maybe-be-pairing's more…entertaining…moments are still to come. (cackles evilly in the background)

……

I will say this and say it once only: _**any recognized work I use is not mine.**_

I don't claim ownership and do not steal.

Concepts: White Flower = Stardust (the movie)

Chess Piece = Count of Monte Cristo (the movie)

Closet Pervert = Naruto (I couldn't let it go, it was just too perfect)

Bruises = *hint* a wolf, a buster blade, and lots of action (grins)

Congrats on those that picked up on them. The impatient ones demanded before I got to the points where they come into the plot. Yes, they do mean something. And they will play a role later (some for comedic purposes), no, I won't spoil it for you.

……

The two stories I mentioned (Perfect Soldier and Gives You Hell) are great reads. Please shower love and attention on them, they deserve it. Every award and recognition, every glowing review, every mention and praise they deserve. I hope their review count hits the millions and all of it from fans and those who love their work.

And a big thank you **The Plot Bunny Whisperer** and **Quaero Lumen** for helping me keep focus. I was scratching my head a bit when I read that…whatever it was.

……

Why I believe war never ends…There's a saying out there that goes something like, 'the sins of the father are passed to the child to bear.' In other words those of us who come after the current generations in power will have to clean up the mess they left behind, which includes war.

But war doesn't have draw blood. Especially here in California, the bloodbath with words is just as brutal and cutthroat. They ruin and destroy when twisted and perverted.

Which is why I believe if the entire world eliminated everyone over the age of 33, most wars and fighting would stop…well either that or nuke the most populated cities here in the US and reduce the crime, excess population, and politicians. (My master plan, a simple solution, no?)

……

Ah, how does Edward know that Harry knows? What other conclusion could he come to? In Edward's world it's either one (to know) or the other (not to know), black and white if you will.

As for Harry vs. the Natural magic…human wizards have developed a mutation that allows them to channel the ambient magic in the earth. That is why it's so disrupted when they try to practice it here. Compare it siphoning water through a straw vs. a hose from a placid lake (Europe). Then compare it to siphoning from the rapids of the Colorado river (the America's on the Fault lines). The straw would be a normal wizard's ability to channel magic (or rather their control of magic). It would be utterly destroyed or the entire project would back fire. The hose would represent a more powerful wizard's abilities to channel magic, but it would be extremely difficult for them to channel any of their magic. Spell casting would backfire.

Now I'm not sure if wizards talk about their core or whatever it is that allows them to do magic in the books. As far as I'm aware the magical core is a work of fanfiction; a plot device to help explain away some things in the story or to help further the story.

……

Ah, the Siren. Who here knows a little about Greek myths, raise your hands (looks around). Good, good, because if I said too much then there goes a part of the plot…ish. Like I said last chapter, there a few stories out there that I'm watching who have this same (sort of) concept.

Without revealing too much, I'll say what I can. Sirens are mythological beings (female) whose voices enchant sailors, enticing them to their deaths. In the Odyssey, Ulysses has his crew tie him to the main mast so he could hear them while having them plug their ears. He nearly goes mad with desire to go to such lovely voices. They 'called' to him in and his mind is not his own until they sailed out of range.

I'm sure you can see where I'm heading with this. Singer would actually be more appropriate, or easier, in terms of understanding. Siren though, is accurate for what I'm doing (I'll be using both terms).

Happy Easter!!

Echo 4/9/09


	9. Haunted

**Gotta Be Somebody**

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 9: Haunted

* * *

"You know you're beautiful when he's angry?"

**-'Hawkeye' Pierce -**

* * *

Jasper stared at the doors the British teen had just stalked through in puzzled confusion. Something wasn't right and it was more than just a verbal confrontation. Something was physically wrong though he couldn't say what.

The blonde vampire stole a quick glance at Edward. From the look on his brother's face he could tell that the copper haired vampire was at a loss as well. Though, it was probably from the force of will that was Brevan Hunter rather than from the teen's well being.

Jasper glanced around uneasily. Something was tingling on the edge of his senses and yet he could not make it out. It was familiar, too familiar in fact. It was a moment before his golden eyes shot open in surprise.

He _knew_ that smell.

But instead of causing him lust, rear rippled through his veins. The aroma was setting him on edge. Like an animal that was scenting the presence of a large and dangerous predator. It made him want to bare his teeth and snarl, clearly baring his fangs, in challenge.

Golden eyes darted around for the source. It was faint, very faint, but there all the same.

It wasn't until Edward moved that he was able to locate the origins of the scent. The smallest ripple in the air was enough for someone as keen as Jasper.

There was a small puddle of blood not far from copper haired vampire…where Brevan had stood. The blonde frowned. When the teen had swept into the library earlier, even as masked as his scent was, the blonde couldn't detect any blood.

And he _would _know.

Of all the Cullens, Jasper was the most susceptible and sensitive to the seductive call. His control could and would snap easily if the right scent reached him or was strong enough. Especially because of the years of conditioning that he suffered through long before he'd ever encountered Alice and, by extension, the Cullen clan.

However he had gotten a better handle on his control, at least he thought he had, since joining the coven. But that was neither here nor there where Brevan was concerned.

Ever since he'd met the guy, there were marked differences in him that didn't sit quite right with the blonde. Not that it was a bad thing, just…unnerving and very, _very_ familiar to him. Jasper had been able to ignore the anomaly surrounding their British friend…neighbor…acquaintance? until that display just a moment ago and panic he'd felt in the library earlier.

He knew he was comfortable in Brevan's presence. That was pretty much a given. But friends would be stretching it. He knew nothing about the guy, not really, and it seemed highly unlikely that Brevan would become a bleeding heart over night just to slake their curiosity. Perhaps a friendly acquaintance would best describe their association.

The blonde vampire lost himself to thought as he stared at the blood puddle. Against the tiled floor it stood out as it darkened to an almost murky black.

Jasper unconsciously cocked his head to the side as he studied the spot. He might not have gone into the medical profession like Edward, but he knew (through copious amounts bloodshed and more than adequate experience), that blood, especially fresh blood, did not dry that quickly nor was it supposed to be that dark.

The blonde silently crouched down to study the anomaly. He passed a hand over it. There was a bit of heat given off, but not as much as he'd expected. It was fresh blood after all.

He reached a hand down and dipped his fingers in it, bringing them up to eye level. He studied the rapidly cooling liquid. Darkening amber eyes watched as he rubbed his fingers together, feeling the texture.

It was thicker than normal blood and he could hardly smell it now, odd. Jasper brought the sample up to his nose and sniffed.

His pupils were dilated almost swallowing up the amber. The blonde reared back violently. Jasper's lips curled in a silent snarl. His vampiric senses were all but screaming at him to back away.

It was all he could do to keep from scrambling backwards. His natural instincts almost overtook him. As it was the former Civil War soldier abruptly stood up and silently backed away a few paces, all the while staring at the puddle.

His blood covered fingers were slightly numbed. He stared at them for a moment, coming out of his shock, before looking back.

In all his long years he had never had such an adverse reaction ever, especially to blood. Now, it was all he could do to keep from scrambling away.

Darkening, reddish tinted, amber eyes studied the rapidly congealing puddle intently. What was going on?

……

Edward was puzzled. Not that he expected any sort of cordiality from the impudent rapscallion he just didn't expect the annoying cretin to be so abrupt. Not that he was an expert on Brevan's mercurial attitudes or even his mindset, but he was short tempered, rude cretin.

Or maybe he could revise that opinion to being abrupt with just him. After all he could generally charm his way into almost everyone's good graces.

And of course the vagabond had to be _that _one exception. At least he could read his mind, not that it helped any if the last scan he did was any indication.

In two previous meetings, Brevan had been more than willing to spar verbally with him, in spite of the danger that the vampire presented. Edward sincerely doubted that the other male could pose some type of threat to him, no matter the experience or training.

In this instance however, he seemed to want nothing more than to escape. Not that Edward wanted to be around him anymore than he had to, Heaven Forbid!, or at all but the entire episode was just such a departure from his previous behavior (playfully insulting and extremely sarcastic or was that extremely insulting and playfully sarcastic?) that it raised his curiosity to an unhealthy (for his sanity) level.

Edward shook his head. It really didn't matter. The idiot obviously had hormonally influenced emotional problems.

It wasn't long before the copper haired vampire realized that he was no longer alone and turned to find a thoughtful expression on his sibling's face. Edward hadn't heard the vampire coming.

"Jasper, wha-" Edward cut off his question when the blonde hadn't acknowledged him. In fact he seemed to be frozen to his spot a few feet away.

Curious Edward started to make his way towards his brother when he noticed the look in the other male's face and the nearly completed dilation of his eyes. He followed Jasper's gaze down to the tiled floor, which seemed to hold the source of his attention.

Edward's eyes landed on and inky reddish black puddle. His nostrils flared as the coppery, metallic scent hit his nose and his amber eyes darkened.

Blood.

How did that get there?

The copper haired vampire chanced a look back at Jasper. It was not normally within the blonde's control to not go on a blood rampage when fresh blood was spilt. And yet, there he was, perfectly still and not going on a blood rampage.

It was rather unnerving actually.

Silence echoed through the halls as both Cullen's regarded the puddle. The younger of the two, cautiously slipping glances at his elder brother.

It took all of Edward's willpower to not shake Jasper to make sure he was not an imposter and demand where the real blonde went. The vampire he knew wouldn't stand there and ogle a spot of blood.

No.

The vampire he'd known for years would leap forward suck up the blood and then run off to the nearest heat source and bleed them dry. And that would most certainly be some unfortunate human in this place.

Chancing a glance back at the hall Brevan had practically run out of. It was empty of life and dimly lit with the silver rays barely peaking through the glass if the windows. He looked back at the hall he had just walked down and then behind Jasper. They were alone.

"Jasper? Jasper, snap out of it." He snapped his fingers in front of his brother's eyes.

Edward's voice seemed to bring Civil War soldier out of his reverie. The blonde forcibly shook himself out of his trance, though his eyes never completely left the puddle.

"Edward…what do you smell?"

"What?"

"Just…taste the air and tell me what you sense?" Jasper grit his teeth as the numbness in his finger tips became more apparent. If he didn't wash the blood off soon, he would lose feeling in that hand.

The younger Cullen frowned before testing the air. His brow furrowed deeper as the scent of blood was all but gone.

"Nothing."

Edward truly didn't want to get down on his hands and knees to smell the puddle. His control, while strong, was nowhere near ironclad and he definitely didn't want to test that now. Jasper frowned as his younger brother turned to him confused and puzzled.

"Are you sure that's blood?"

"I thought it was…"

"Then why aren't you on some kind of rampage?"

"I…don't know." Jasper met Edward's gaze squarely for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, "that's why I wanted you to smell it."

"Well I don't smell anything."

"Perhaps your senses are waning then." He snapped. Jasper's senses were flaring out erratically as the numbness began climbing up his arm.

"And what about you? You're supposed to be the most sensitive." The younger male retorted. "Are you even sure that's blood? Or are you playing some sort of joke in bad taste?"

"As if I would do something like that, _Masen_." The blonde snarled. His dilated eyes becoming darker as the more predatory instincts came forward.

"Watch your tone _Whitlock_." Edward replied sharply, his eyes narrowing, "It's not as if I was the one with little self control."

"Then you should be grateful that I have superior senses, in exchange," the blonde growled before stalking off to find a water fountain. He needed to get the blood off him; it was wreaking havoc with his senses.

"What is going on, Jasper."

The blonde nearly growled as Edward, seemingly obliviously, popped up between him and the drinking faucet he had just located. It was a moment of staring before he pushed past the younger male with a growl.

"Shut up or I'll bite you."

Jasper pushed the side of his hip against the drinking faucet button and sent a challenging glare at his sibling, warning him against moving. Once he water was running, the blonde turned and plunged his hand under the water, violently rubbing his hands together.

Almost instantly Jasper felt better as the murky, nearly dried mess flowed down the drain. The numbness was also leaving and his senses became more balanced, less agitated.

Edward just watched his brother warily. This was the first time he'd been on the aggressive side of the blonde that didn't involve Alice and truth be told, it frightened him because not only didn't he have the battle experience the other had, but he also wasn't powerful enough to match.

Sure he was quick and could read minds and knew enough to defend himself, but he didn't have the edge Jasper had in combat. He'd even bet only one or two of the Volturi Guard would be able to match the ex-soldier and barely come away unscathed. And that was because of their ages, experience and probably whatever gift they had.

The copper haired vampire watched as the aggressive emotions visibly washed away with whatever was coating Jasper's hand. He didn't think it was blood. What vampire grew aggressive and predatory around other vampire?

There were cases he heard about Sirens, somewhere along the way, and how they could affect a vampire. But he highly doubted that Brevan Hunter was one. Also, since Jasper already had a mate it was highly unlikely that even if he was one that the blonde would be affected in such an adverse manner.

And so he waited. He wanted to make sure that his sibling was alright before he went back and investigated. Edward also wanted to keep an eye on the blonde. This shift was too abrupt and too violent for his liking.

It wasn't normal Jasper behavior. Sure they had enough confidence in him to keep to himself and not drain someone during school, but that trust was tenuous at best.

Edward's thoughts were cut off when the heard a sigh of relief. It seemed that jasper was also aware of the effects of…whatever it was, that was agitating him. Looking at the other vampire's eyes, a solid gold, relaxed him up as well.

The younger vampire waited a few moments, allowing the older male to dry his now clean hands. It went unsaid between them that they were going back.

With a look, the younger, speedier vampire darted away and returned a moment later with some paper towels and a plastic bag. Where he had gotten it, Jasper would never know, he wasn't about to ask. His mind was elsewhere anyways.

The entire incident earlier had disturbed him greatly.

How something seemingly innocuous could change his personality into an aggressive predator was beyond him. Jasper shook his head at the thought. He'd reflect on the experience later when he had a moment to himself.

Catching the younger male's cautious look, Jasper sighed. It seemed that he'd never be free of that scrutiny. Jerking his head, the blonde vampire slowly made his way back towards the spot, Edward carefully following behind.

"I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"You're one to talk."

"I never did an about face in personality."

"But you're capricious enough as it is."

"Yes, but I never was affected in the way you just exhibited."

"And you wondered why I asked you to scent the blood?"

"It might not have been."

Jasper halted abruptly. There was no way that what he smelled wasn't some substitute. He looked over his shoulder and pinned Edward with a measuring stare.

"I saw the look you had, you knew it was blood."

"How could you? You were fixated on the spot."

"Talent."

"Right."

"Alright All-Knowing-One, what was it that pooled on the floor where, subsequently, one Brevan Hunter had stood not moments before arguing with you?"

"I don't know," the younger male ran his fingers in a decidedly mortal show of agitation before he froze and looked at the older, amused, male, "you saw that?"

Jasper snorted. Of course he had. And now he understood why they were hostile towards each other, though his sympathies lay with the other student. Edward could be rather…much to handle and quite stubborn when he put his mind to the task, especially when he was curious about something or someone.

"I'm surprised Emmett and Alice didn't come running."

"What about Rosalie?"

A wry thought entered the blonde's mind at their cantankerous sibling. Now that would have been an interesting confrontation.

"She'd have brought the popcorn and watched the fireworks."

They had stopped at the corridor, which was still miraculously abandoned, by that point. Both eyed congealing puddle with varying dubious expressions. Neither seemed inclined to collect a sample or in a hurry to go anywhere near it.

Jasper wanted to avoid a repeat experience. He couldn't bring himself to take a step closer.

Edward eyed the spot with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Blood was blood. He was a vampire. The two didn't really mix if said predator was trying to live out an alternative lifestyle.

He had no intention of using Jasper to help with this and it seemed solely up to him to clean up this mess. With a sigh, the younger male squatted before the congealed hemoglobin and pulled out the paper towels and baggy.

Neither was ideal for testing under any circumstances, but they would have to suffice. Both vampires wanted to make sure that this, whatever it was, wasn't around for the normal mortal populace to step in.

Since there was still about half of the day left in school, there was a very real possibility of it being spread around and Jasper didn't relish the thought of have to be on guard against something else at this place. It was bad enough being around these young, healthy, hormonal humans daily.

The younger would have to get back. Jasper on the other hand, since he was schedule to be in the library at this hour, would be able to sneak out and drop it by Carlisle.

The blonde watched on as the youth began the work. Edward was carefully avoiding contact with the plasma, taking every precaution.

Jasper looked up when he heard the all too familiar pat of the rain wash against the windows. The weather outside reflected his mood perfectly.

……

Harry always had an unnaturally high pain threshold even before the war. Perhaps it was because of his magic. Or perhaps it was a side effect of being bullied so much in his younger years.

Either way it was beyond what many would consider normal, even amongst magic users. His tolerance levels had increased at least thrice what they had been after his first four years at Hogwarts and were furthered, later on, by his brief and hellish experience in captivity.

So he should have had excellent self control, unnatural even. Even by his standards.

However he didn't. He was exhausted, physically, spiritually and emotionally.

And none of that mattered as he made it to his run-down residence. He left his bag in the car, he'd retrieve it later. The only sensation the adolescent could focus on was the vague separation of his numbed mind and moving body.

His feet clumsily stumbled over the broken asphalt of his drive way, threatening to trip him up and halt his progress. His hooded sweatshirt darkened as raindrops splattered across his back.

Harry gasped as he barely made it inside the door of his house before collapsing to his knees, his mind solely focusing on his internal mantra. The fluffy 'rug' by the entrance squeaked in protest to the sudden weight.

The black haired youth grit his teeth and suppressed a groan as another wave ripped through him. He was determined not to cry out.

Harry's jaw muscles worked overtime in trying to keep his mouth shut. He forced himself to keep quiet out of a sheer survival instinct.

His entire arm began to tremor with the force of the magical backlash rippling through his veins. Partially healed wounds tore open. Harry struggled to stem the blood flow with little success.

These effects were the price he paid for using heavy amounts of magic during the war, especially before he was completely healed, showed him exactly where he stood. It was a bloody trade off for his more…enhanced abilities. He didn't know what he was anymore.

What had started out as a civil conflict turned into a bloody war that practically wiped out a good third of the British wizarding society. A majority of the prominent families had been all but annihilated and the government was in shambles.

The adolescent struggled to his feet, with little success, as he tried to make it his kitchen. There were some bottles of some sort of aspirin or pain meds he'd stashed in there just in case this would happen. They wouldn't help him at this moment, but the meds would be able to curtail the aftereffects.

The inky blood left a smeared trailed after him as he dragged himself through the old halls. Luckily this was an old house and therefore the floor plan wasn't as extensive or spacious as modern day architecture.

Harry was able to hobble into the kitchen soon enough and started for the drawer that held the anesthetics only to find himself wobble backwards as another convulsion seized his muscles. He was barely able to top himself from falling.

His body was literally tearing itself apart…from the inside out. And there was nothing he could do stop it.

His magic was lashing out of control. And he was about ready to hunt down and murder the ritualistic bastard who did this to him in cold blood…if he survived to see tomorrow.

As much as he wanted to indulge his bloodthirsty side, Harry couldn't muster the energy to do much more than fantasize. He knew his own weaknesses. Unfortunately for him, so did that particular faction of the war effort.

It was not a natural occurrence in the least. Or rather the cause of his suffering was not naturally induced. That knowledge did little to help him at the moment.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry registered the wheezing noise as his lungs struggling to take in air. All he could focus on at that point was trying to locate the blood thinners.

It was a moment, he clumsily rummaged around for the pill bottles, before the analgesic finally found it self in his shaking grasp. The youth fumbled with the lid before popping it open and nearly scattering half of the jar's contents all over the floor.

Not really caring, he threw back four or five of the tablets in his hand and dropped the plastic canister uncaringly on the floor, scattering the rest of the jar's contents. He'd pick it up later. For the time being he'd wait for the promised relief.

Harry sighed somewhat as the pain relievers kicked in almost a half hour later. He was lucky. He'd made it back in time and that was all that mattered.

He couldn't very well have others questioning him about things he'd rather keep secret.

Anyways, this was bound to happen sometime. He'd been expecting this attack for a while. He just wasn't expecting the backlash to be so…severe. Sure he always suffered some kind of consequence for using his magic aggressively, but the reactions were usually mild.

There had to be something else affecting his condition. This just wasn't the normal, easily covered up, stress he'd begged off while in England. And he'd bet good gold on that.

If he was correct, and he knew he was, then it seemed the close proximity to the turbulent, ambient magic of the Americas had effected after all. Harry couldn't be certain though. And if it did, he had to determine whether or not it dampened or agitated his condition.

Harry grimaced at the thought. As if things weren't already disarrayed enough.

Summoning whatever was left of his strength, Harry shakily staggered toward his sleeping quarters. He took great care to keep his cramped muscles from jarring too badly. His last lesson on being stubborn had taught him well and was not an experience he wished to repeat.

Somewhere in the back of his pain addled and groggy mind, Harry knew that the vampires were going to be curious. The million pound question was how was he going to get out of this predicament?

The seventeen year old stumbled over to his sleeping bag. He'd think about that later. Right now all he wanted was the oblivion and peace sleep offered.

* * *

_Green eyes cracked open at the sound of approaching boots. There were only two and if he was correct, one was his handler and the other was a visitor. He didn't know how long he'd been in this hole of a nightmare, but he hoped this meant that it was close to the end. _

_Harry couldn't really move, his joints seemed frozen and any jostle or flexion of muscle caused him no small amount of pain. His body seemed to be rebelling against itself and whatever it was they were doing to him. _

_He watched the door to his cell. It wasn't usual for him to receive visitors, especially when he was recuperating between rituals. _

_The fifteen year old captive tensed as the keys jangled in the lock. Only handlers ever came within grabbing range. Though considering his physical incapacity, it wasn't too much of a stretch of the imagination as to the reasons why. _

_He couldn't turn his neck as the muscles seemed to protest heavily. Harry watched as a pair of fine dragon hide boots came within his line of sight. Whoever was on the other side came in? _

"_Leave us." _

_Harry tensed minutely. He knew that voice. It haunted his nightmares. _

_For a moment there was utter silence as they listened to the cell door lock and the caretaker's boot steps echo down the corridor. Then there was nothing. He was alone with __**him**__ of all people. _

_The black haired teen wanted nothing more than to glare at the other. However, it seemed not even his facial muscles were up to the challenge. _

_The boots just stayed there, firmly planted on the cobbled slate of Harry's cell floor. The imprisoned teen faintly noticed that the leather itself was of the highest quality, something he knew the other occupant couldn't afford. Well, at least not before he was paid off. _

"_What are you doing here?" Harry's voice rasped in barely a whisper. It had given out a while ago. He would likely talk with a bit of a husk if he ever got it back._

_His visitor remained silent for a moment longer. Harry wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Perhaps he held his retort in an effort to choose his words carefully? In another time he'd have snorted at the thought. _

"_Ginny's handfasted." Harry made no movement signaling that he heard. He had no idea what a 'handfast' was, but then again there were many parts of wizarding culture that he was ignorant of. _

"_That means she's bound in marriage for a year and a day." And he would care about Ron's little sister because? Harry knew she had a crush on him and sort of had some connection to him after their second year. He hadn't really had time to sort that out though. "But you wouldn't know that now would you?"_

"_She's helped out a lot with that, fulfilling an old contract and all." the voice blithely continued on, "Mum's happy that her little girl is off in the big world. And now we have enough for treating my dad. Soon he'll be right as rain."_

"_And you know what the best part is?" not even waiting for a reply, the chess master barreled on, "they're smiling at me. ME! Not Bill. Not Charlie. Not Percy. Not even the twins. Me." _

_Harry watched as the boots walked around in a slow circle. Somewhere in the middle of his monologue, his visitor had started walking back and forth. There wasn't much room in his cell even if he only lay on one side._

_His mind wandered a bit at this visit. What was the purpose? The other male couldn't really gloat as there was nothing that could be held over him, except the lives of his unit, but that was slim at best. _

_The boots stopped in front him. What brought his attention back, though, was the rising volume of the voice. _

"_And you know what the best part is? __**I**__ made my family happy. __**I**__ arranged Ginny's marriage. __** I**__ got the money for Dad's operation. And it had _**nothing**_ to do with __**you**__."_

_So Mr. Weasley was going to survive his snake bite after all? He'd gotten bitten by some type of venomous viper that was eating away his nervous system and systematically shutting down his internal organs. The anti-venom required rare and expensive ingredients as well as a pricy operation to cutout the dead tissue and re-grow via potions. And since wizards didn't have insurance, there was no way for the Weasely's to pay for the procedure. At least before this. _

_That was good news. Harry's mind wandered again as he just stared at the boots, contemplating if he was going to have sore ribs on top of everything else. Those looked like reinforced dragon hide. He wouldn't put it past Ron to give him a swift kick while he was down._

"_Well, maybe not all of it. You did help pay for Dad…sort of." _

"_Paid you well for me did they?" _

"_Twice as much as I bargained for, actually." The other teenager's sneer became more prevalent after a moment. "We were happy before you came along. All famous and everything, everyone instantly loving you for something you can't remember. Youngest Seeker of the Century. Basilisk Slayer. Everyone's hero. Well, everyone's but mine."_

_The black haired teen barely caught what was being said, though it seemed rambling to him. They really hadn't spoken civilly to each other since before Hermione's death._

"_Little Gin-gin was infatuated with you, you know? Mom filling her head with all sorts of nonsense. She probably would have made you a good wife. Ginny could have popped out a few sprogs for you in no time. All loyal and light sided, the perfect witch for the perfect hero." _

_Giving up on the hope that ignoring the red head would make him leave sooner, Harry listened in. After all he wasn't going anywhere and who knew how long this visit lasted. A moment later he wished he hadn't._

"_As if I want you in my family. You don't deserve my family. You got yours killed off, and then you got my girl killed off, now it seems you're aiming for mine."_

_Harry nearly saw red. How dare he!! _

_Try as he might, the black haired teen couldn't move a muscle. Everything protested vehemently. _

_There really wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't even call on his accidental magic at the moment. But he knew it was there. He could feel it welling up turbulently, painfully inside him, waiting to lash out._

"_Next time I see you, I'll kill you." _

_The laugh that erupted from the former DA member sent chills up his spine. It was almost as bad as hearing Voldemort's own. No, maybe it was worse._

"_No you won't. You want to know why? Because by the time you're out of here, you won't even remember my name."_

"_Just you wait." The red head snorted in derision. _

"_Harry, you couldn't kill anyone if you tried. You couldn't even kill __**Voldemort**__." The redhead's voice turned vicious, "As if a stunner could kill him. You're too much of a goody two-shoes. You couldn't even save Hermione because __**you can't kill**__." _

_Harry tried grabbing at the boot. His body though screamed in protest caused him to go into spasming convulsions. _

"_See? You're too weak to even touch me now." His tone became cold, "a weak pawn for an old man. Both easily manipulated by a better chess player." _

"_I'm my own hero. And I'm not relying on some two-bit prophecy. I'm on my own side." _

_He set down something in front of the now wheezing teen. It took Harry a moment to register that it was a black lacquered king piece in front of his former best friend. It was a regular piece, nothing magical about it. _

"_It was either you or my family. I chose them."_

_Harry stared at the chess piece. All he could make out through the entire visit was the details on the boots. Ron hadn't even tried to manhandle him. _

"_Something to remember the good times by," the voice became sardonic in a nostalgic, almost wistful tone, "after all, you were entertaining…some of the time." _

_The redhead stood up and rapped on the cell door and waited for it to be opened. It was a moment before the keys jangled and it slid open. Without another word, the wizard slipped out and the door closed again._

_That was the last time Harry saw his former best friend._

* * *

Generally Carlisle didn't have a reason to head to the lab at the hospital. He was a general practitioner and thus was not required there. On the rare occasion that he was found himself there, it was because of a weather related emergency and they were short hands everywhere.

It was also where they kept the most active blood cultures for testing, a very trying place for most vampires. The air always carried that heavy, metallic smell.

Carlisle looked around the place. Normally there were at least one or two technicians in the room. Today he must have caught the place between shifts, which was rather fortunate for him… and for his son. Jasper had followed him into the lab. Partially as a look out and partially out of curiosity.

His last adopted son had visited him unexpectedly and gifted him with something that sent chills up and down his spine. The normally stoic vampire was shaken and shaken deeply.

Jasper had just stuffed a rather messy, and frankly disgusting looking, plastic bag in his hands and wouldn't really elaborate on what it was other than blood. The sample was hardly ideal and definitely wasn't in a sterilized container. Whatever was in the bag was important enough for the younger vampire to risk his hard earned control to bring it to him.

The younger vampire was acutely aware that this place should have been a danger zone. In fact, the metallic smell made his mouth water slightly, but other than that he could push it off as an annoyance.

Deciding it would be best for him to stay out of the way, Jasper retreated to an empty space in the lab where he just leaned against the counter and watched. It would take a few hours before the sample results would be done. Normally it would have been months with the backlog of cases, but since it was a small hospital and this was a single sample, neither vampire saw the need to wait.

A couple of feet away the doctor was readying phials and other equipment. He didn't really expect anything extraordinary to come from this. Perhaps varied results due to the obvious contamination as the blood was obviously black and cold, though not completely dry.

"Tell me again why you want me to test this so badly?" Carlisle began adding the blood to phials. When Jasper didn't readily reply the older, the older vampire looked up. The younger blonde's eyes were screwed shut as if he was remembering something painful.

"Jasper?" the doctor queried.

"I had a bad reaction to it," the civil war soldier finally spoke up, he looked off into space, "I wanted to know if it was human or not."

So many questions flew through the older vampire's mind at that moment. He looked down at the phials in his hand.

"Where did you get this?"

The younger blonde mulled over his answer. He wasn't sure how well this would go over with his adopted father. He somewhat resigned himself to sharing the full story. Because if it was not himself, then definitely Edward. The copper haired vampire wouldn't withhold such information from his sire.

"Brevan Hunter."

The sound of shattering glass surprised Jasper enough to look at the older male. Carlisle himself seemed surprised as he blankly stared at the shattered remains in his hands or rather the _**bleeding**__ cuts_ in his hand. Neither it seemed had expected that reaction. He looked up and met Jasper's eyes squarely.

Jasper almost gasped as he watched the doctor's eyes go pitch black then to blood red and began flickering to blue. That and his canines were starting to lengthen and shorten, giving the centuries old male a menacing look. But what startled the younger male the most was animalistic predatory gleam in Carlisle's eyes.

They also looked deadened as if all conscious thought had been wiped form his mind. It was almost as if the doctor he knew was possessed by some ancient berserker.

The younger blonde tackled the Cullen patriarch to the ground.

After a few tense moments, Jasper was finally able to wrestle the doctor over the chemical showers and switch them on, all the while somehow miraculously holding onto the elder vampire. He had to hold the doctor bodily.

In truth Jasper felt like his arms were being slowly ripped off. Who knew the elder, _sedate _vampire could fight like a wildcat. Thankfully Carlisle's innate distaste for biting humanoid forms kept the younger male from getting a new set of scars.

It was about five minutes before the struggling became weaker and ceased all together. Carlisle gasped as the water ran over his cuts, washing away the vile stuff. He literally felt the aggression drain away down the sink.

"What was that?" the doctor rasped.

The younger vampire was more than thankful that none of the lab technicians had been present. He was sure there would have been bloodshed if they had. Glancing at the semi-pink, exposed, _alive_ flesh surrounding the cuts on the older vampire's hands, Jasper could only think one thing.

"I don't know."

……

In all honesty, living in the United States was definitely not living up to expectations. Not that it really had anything to do with the land itself, there was no way that the state of Washington or the town of Forks was to blame. Or even his annoying neighbor, though he could be added in as an…inconsequential factor.

No. All those accusations lay with everything else that got lumped in with his life. And he wasn't exaggerating either.

Harry had hoped, in vain, that his troubles would remain across The Pond where his former lives had been, those of Harry Potter, unwanted orphan boy and Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, wizard. However it seemed that just by virtue of his birth that everything clung to him like a disgusting stink that he had yet to find a way to get rid of.

It was as if he was being told that he'd never be rid of his fate. And all the evidence he had was staring right back at him, tauntingly.

Harry's lips thinned as he glared at the dried blood that pooled all over the driver's side door and seat. It looked like something from one of the disgusting horror movies Dudley used to watch.

The teen massaged his sore arm. It would take a few days for the bruises to fade. He just had to be sure that his magical use was limited to either simple charms or internal circulation and control exercises through concentrated battle mediation and visualization.

He hadn't taken the normal precautions because of the pain. He definitely hadn't expected it to be that intense, at least no more so than usual.

Not that he wouldn't have been able to anyways.

The teen sighed and looked at his wristwatch. Well, there wasn't really anything to it. He didn't have the time, energy or the magic to clean up the mess at the moment.

He had scrubbed as much as he could, which wasn't very much, but couldn't do more with the time constraints. Harry just hoped that no one would go near his car, an old, used 1990-something Honda Accord. It was cheap and he needed something that wasn't a rental.

And since this place was such an isolated area, his less than…adequate driving skills would hardly be noticed. It was a thrill and utterly nerve-wracking trying to drive one of these…contraptions and not get mistaken. His experience the first day he decided to make a trip into Forks, he nearly ended hitting an elderly driver almost head on because he was driving on the wrong side of the road.

Not the best way to start anew in a different country, by killing one of the inhabitants in an accident. The entire ordeal was rather traumatic.

Yes, he had watched Uncle Vernon operate his beastly machine back in England and, yes, he and Ron did have a field day sneaking around in the old flying car after it had somehow made its way back to the Weaselys' garage. But that was child's play.

He at least had the sense to look up some of the basics of driving and the rules of the roads here in America. Practical experience, though, couldn't be helped and he didn't really have the time before he moved.

Now he had to learn out of necessity otherwise he'd have to bike to school. Not something he fancied doing, especially in the dead of winter.

Harry sighed again and ran his hand through his hair in agitation. With the display he'd put on for those vampire, he seriously doubted the day would be left in peace.

After all, Harry was betting that Jasper at least would try to catch him. Humans, and vampires by extension, are curious creatures and his behavior yesterday would warrant some kind of investigation.

He'd have to do his best to deflect any and all curiosity. There were parts about him that _**nobody**_, not even a vampire, should know outside of himself. After all the best kept secret was the one that was never told.

Harry was more than certain that when the blonde haired tutor discovered the blood that there would be questions that he was unwilling to answer. His past was his to deal with and his alone.

Just like it always had been.

The teen sighed and tossed in his knapsack. The book bag landed on the passenger side. If he kept brooding, he'd be late for school. While he'd rather be elsewhere, Harry had appearances to keep up and a life to make out of what he had left of it. He certainly hadn't lived through everything to just give up now, no matter how tempting that was.

With a last withering look at both the stains and his watch, the teenaged wizard hopped in. He'd just have to grin and bear it and pray to the grey heavens that he'd get through the day without incident.

……

It wasn't long before Harry reached the school. The time was early enough that not many were there. Though, it wouldn't be long before the parking lot was chaos incarnate, like every other morning.

Honestly. He understood the need to feel independent and somewhat mature, but to have just about every teen in the area try to cram their damned contraptions into such a small space was simply madness. Or why school officials felt the need to make such a lot available if such accommodations weren't adequate to begin with.

Harry glanced at the clouded sky before getting out. He was reasonably sure that it wouldn't rain but this was the weather and this was Forks. Anything could plausibly happen.

The young wizard made his way into the school, with a last look around the area. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

……

A pair of ominocular lenses tracked the teens' movements as it followed him through the parking lot. It was only a matter of time. For now though, the orders were to observe and report back, especially after the incident in the…alley.

As if it could even be called that. That place didn't even hold a Lumos to the true sophistication back in civilized society.

They still had yet to locate the subject's home. The natural magic of this continent was greatly interfering in their tracking abilities. Added to the fact that the American used automobiles to go just about everywhere and British, magically-raised wizards were left in a situation they were ill equipped to deal with.

Like so many of the stories that other countries circulated about the 'New World' continent, the Americas were more or less frontier. At least in magical terms, and thus had a different rule of law when it came to magic.

The…civilized legal system that Europe and a good portion of the Asian continent luxuriated in was non-existent. Out here there was frontier justice, rough and simple. Like something out of the 1800's.

Every wizard was a law unto himself unless they crossed the line and forced the Sheriff got involved. Their agent had been fortunate earlier in the alley. The local law enforcement had been called away to deal with some local treaty violation with the natives or something, he really didn't care. These _wizards_ were just a step above muggles in his opinion. The term shaman could, very, loosely be applied to these…humans, barely.

They couldn't practice magic like the 'Old World' wizards could, like civilized magic users. Instead they had to rely on some strange, laughable mumbo-jumbo and rude, savage even, local craft.

It was sad really. To see such powerful potential and so many opportunities lost to so many _hicks_, shameful.

Of course by local, which was relative in such a barbaric place, in the Americas usual covered at least a couple hundred miles. Settlements were few and far between on the west coast.

None of this mattered anyways. Once the signal was given, they'd be able to retrieve their runaway and no one would be any wiser. The local muggles probably wouldn't even notice.

After all what was one missing teenager in a land as large as this? He was a transient and most likely avoided.

He could hardly wait for that day to arrive. A sly, almost oily, and extremely sinister grin over took the watcher's features. His prey would most likely make the hunt interesting, after all they made him.

But that didn't mean he couldn't harass.

"Soon, my pet."

……

Jasper Whitlock.

Texas born native.

Civil War Soldier.

Major of the Confederate Army.

Vampire.

War machine.

Combat veteran.

Runaway.

Southern-bred Gentleman

Husband.

Mate.

Family member.

Student.

But most importantly of all, and seemingly forgotten, was the fact that he was the _second eldest _vampire in the Cullen Coven. A detail he was sure almost everyone forgot.

While he might not have been as old as Carlisle, Jasper knew for certain that he was fairly experienced in life. He also had seen and done things that he knew none of the others in the clan hadn't.

The older vampire also didn't live both sides of the line. It afforded Jasper a type of wisdom that could only be obtained through personal suffering.

Living as he did was a struggle. Day in and day out, going against his very nature as a predator because of some moral high ground. Jasper often found him mind wandering into forbidden realms and flirting with dangerous thoughts. It was something he kept to himself.

Not the doctor. Not the mind reader. And not even Alice knew what went on behind his emotionless eyes.

Carlisle might have seen a bit more in his long life, but he didn't experience it. Not the way Jasper had. He didn't see war in the same way Jasper had. He didn't have to fight and kill newborns to just survive.

He was almost sure that the head of the coven had no inkling about the other supernatural…anomalies that were hidden in this world, even if he spent time with the Volturi.

And because of his experience, Jasper was also quite certain that the doctor wouldn't have any idea about what was ailing Brevan Hunter. In fact, now that he thought of it, Hunter wasn't displaying anything a normal mortal would. That alone made it a different situation all together, one he knew the others hadn't experienced.

While medicine was not his chosen area of expertise, for the obvious reason, the blonde remembered enough about battlefield triage and the many different illnesses that plagued the mortal populations that he was able to identify possible victims. Mentally culling them, separating the weak and sick from the healthy and strong.

It irritated him to no end to constantly have to reassure others about his stability. His control, for what it was, was remarkable. Though, he was quite sure that they couldn't comprehend, them being morally superior and all.

It wasn't so much that he was bitter over the matter, Jasper grimaced as he picked up on a few conflicting emotions, it was just that he was tired of constantly having to defend himself. Being born when he had and having lived through what he did, Jasper didn't need his small mate always be there, reassuring the others.

It grated on his gentle southern upbringing. However there were some situations that could have been worse if she wasn't there so he bore it to the best of his abilities.

They had arrived only a few moments before, all piled into Edward's silver bullet (with Edward's driving it might as well have been), and he was currently searching the sea of heads for one in particular. There were questions he had and only one person to direct them. He wasn't going to wait until fourth period study session either.

Unfortunately it seemed like his quarry was being rather uncooperative. He wasn't within the vampire's considerable sight.

Annoyance filled the blonde as he barely registered his 'siblings' departure. Why did one single mortal have to garner such attention?

The blonde couldn't truly answer his own question and it really didn't matter. Jasper was sure that Brevan would open a little on his own time.

As for the present, the Texas native had to settle a matter of importance. The results had yet to come back from the lab, but if Carlisle's similar adverse reaction to the blood was anything to go by then he needed at least something.

A clue perhaps? Maybe if he asked _very_ nicely, the British male would supply him with the missing puzzle piece.

Jasper mentally snorted. As if.

If Brevan had even an ounce of any of the obstinate personality he'd observed during Edward's questioning, then he'd knew getting information was going to be quite an…experience.

He sincerely doubted that Brevan would open up and share his life's story. Especially, since he suspected the other to be as private as himself. It was impressive that he had evaded Edward for so long. The scout would have definitely had everything telegraphed to him mentally and then the mystery would have become a boring and mundane.

Jasper let a scowl slip over his normally impassive features before quickly banishing it. That panic attack wasn't normal.

He wondered at what physical state the mortal would show up in. Would he be a healthy color or pale?

And as he was thought about it, the blonde felt his lip curl. That blood wasn't natural either.

He was barely able to pick out the scent. Now that he knew what to look for he was able to pick up on it whereas the others would be hard pressed to find it. Carlisle might, but that would have been because he actually touched the stuff. The scent also contained that strange tang to it.

And it was that redolence he was picking out now. And led him to a car he'd have recognized anywhere.

Well, it seemed Brevan was here, which meant he was attending today. So he'd be able to hopefully talk to the guy at some point and wring out some answers.

Jasper wondered close enough to the car to be able to peer in. What had happened the day before had disturbed him and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He also wasn't sure what possessed him to approach Brevan's car other than the strange scent.

Either way he wanted some closure. It wasn't really his business but he needed to know. Anything or anyone who had the potential to send him into a blood rage of any kind needed to be dealt with one way or another.

It was a moment before the blonde realized he was staring. Inside the vehicle was what looked like something from a horror movie.

"Jasper what are you…" Edward cut himself off as he caught sight of what froze the blonde.

Dried blood dripped down the dashboard, steering wheel, and door as stains decorated the upholstery.

Edward would have gone a perfect shade of white if he was still mortal. As it was he almost staggered in realization.

It hadn't been their imagination after all.

And no one should have survived that much blood loss.

He couldn't explain the intensity of his reactions, just that everything affected him more than he was willing and ready to admit. Which was odd. While Jasper reacted adversely, almost aggressively, he became…Edwards couldn't really explain it.

One part of him wanted to snarl, hiss and spit, like an agitated cat, at the blood while another struggled desperately to hunt down the source and check to see if everything was alright. It was like having two warring factions claw for dominance and neither succeeding.

It was confusing. Even for someone of his capricious temperament.

Something was going on. Something he wasn't party to. Edward flat out stared at the frozen blonde, trying to read something from him.

Carlisle had been acting strangely and had even withdrawn from them last night, and Jasper wasn't sharing. Edward was determined to find out.

He knew that the civil war veteran had visited his sire at the hospital with the blood sample and he also knew that something had to have happened there. He'd have to be deaf blind, dumb and without his gift to not see something so obvious.

The sample was missing and neither blonde was talking. If there was one thing Edward hated it was not being 'in the know'.

And until just now, he had been partially convinced that yesterday's incident was just a random coincidence, one of many, that involved the mysterious Brevan Hunter.

Without a word, Jasper turned on his heel and strode purposefully back towards their car. Edward followed behind him, a question on his lips.

What did surprise the younger male was when his blonde counterpart stopped right in front their cantankerous sibling. Who was currently preening before she went inside.

"Rosalie, I need you to find something out from him."

"Who?" Rosalie looked over her nails.

"Brevan Hunter. You have English with him don't you?"

"Why would I want to voluntarily talk to that simpleton?"

"Because I'm asking you." There was a commanding tone tempered by a line of steel that Edward had never heard before, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently Rosalie did too.

"Fine." The beautiful vampire flipped her hair as she glided toward the school, "But don't expect anything significant. He is an idiot after all."

Being the ever present gentleman, Jasper just inclined his head in acknowledgment. Satisfied that her sacrifice would not be in vain (or unappreciated), Rosalie continued her trek towards the educational buildings.

As if finally noticing his audience, Jasper turned around and met the amber gaze of his youngest sibling. The blonde took great care to keep his mind carefully blank. He wanted a little privacy with his thoughts before he shared them.

Edward for his part looked right back. His gaze (and gift) closely scrutinizing the elder vampire.

"What's your interest in this, Edward?"

"Curiosity." Jasper's eyebrow went up. Edward was never _just_ the curious sort.

"Care to elaborate?"

"No."

The elder blonde gave the younger male a measuring look. It was an expression the copper haired vampire was learning to hate. He also couldn't get a good read from Jasper.

"Then neither will I."

With that the blonde shouldered his backpack and made his way towards the small high school. He had classes to attend and a plan of attack to formulate. Even if Rosalie didn't get any information from the Brit, he had four whole class periods to.

Edward just watched Jasper go before reaching in the car for his own bag. He could think on the idiot later. Right now, he had a class to get to.

All the while they were being watched.

……

Harry stared down at his half completed homework blankly, willing it to magically finish by itself. If only it were that easy.

When she was alive, Harry had sworn that Hermione had known a spell that automatically turned out a perfect term paper. How else could she have gotten all of her homework done with so many classes?

Not that the spell would have helped him much in his current predicament. Aside from the tiny, insignificant fact that he couldn't use his magic without some kind of totem conduit, he was physically and magically impaired at the moment. He was still suffering from the after effects of his backlash attack.

"Alright class."

The announcement brought Harry out of his musings. Class was starting and he could always count on his English teacher to go straight into the lesson. That meant no required social interaction with his peers, which was a very good thing. At least he didn't have to deal with the vampires for a while.

Famous last words.

"Today I will have you break off into your project groups and begin planning your mid-term scene. I will be assigning you certain scenes to re-enact and will require you to come up with the props and costumes on your own…"

Harry listened with growing horror as Mr. Thomas began going over the project and detailing what he expected. He was sure that the man was secretly out to get him, he just knew it.

Slowly his eyes, against his will, peaked over to the side and glanced at his blonde partner. Thank fully his glasses were on and didn't give him away, his posture though…

The blonde on the other hand had no such qualms about outright glaring at him. He could almost feel the heat from that venomous stare.

Rosalie almost smirked as her 'project partner' went rigid in his seat. It was almost amusing.

Mr. Thomas dismissed the class and immediately the noise level went up. While other students were dragging their seats into groups and rifling through backpacks, the seventeen year old male made no move to join up with his unfortunate partner.

He had hoped against hope that he'd escape the day relatively unscathed (or rather unbothered). That no longer seemed to be the case. Especially, both when he and his partner would rather ignore each other's existence than acknowledge it.

Conceding defeat and praying fervently that the vampire would be out of 'the loop' so to speak, Harry grudgingly turned his desk towards the blonde. Rosalie, for her part, just watched him with mild disdain before looking him over curiously.

Harry caught the look and nearly froze. He _knew_ **that** look well.

He couldn't count how many times in the last month he'd spent in England alone that he got _that_ look. The need to know about his person or what was behind his glasses. The worst was when the inquiries became even bolder, like that one annoying reporter Rito-something.

Time for a diversion.

Quickly glancing around the room to make sure his classmates were thoroughly focused, and therefore not listening, on their assignments to be distracted, Harry focused his attention back on Rosalie and spoke up. Which, judging by her expression, was not what she was expecting him to say.

"It was a hernia."

Before Rosalie could even voice her thoughts, Harry cut her off. Of course the blonde scowled fiercely at his audacity…and ludicrous solution. _That _was the best solution he could come up with?

Did he really believe she was a 'dumb' blonde? Apparently so.

"You do know what a hernia is, right?"

He had a long way to go before he fooled her. After all she had decades of experience with Emmett alone. One year alone would have sufficed to make anyone an expert in spotting rather poor and pitiful excuses. And Emmett certainly had run the gamut…twice.

"I wouldn't have said I had one if I didn't know."

"Then define what it is."

"No."

"What?"

"I don't feel like it."

"You do know those are internal?"

"Sure."

"You don't know what one is."

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to."

Harry just shrugged. He wasn't going to argue semantics. Besides, he was trying to divert her attention. He wasn't sure if Jasper and the Bastard told anyone of their encounter, but he wouldn't trust to hope.

"Since when do hernias make you bleed?"

"Who says I was bleeding?" Rosalie glared at him.

"Have you looked at your car lately?"

"Why? It didn't suddenly sprout fur or grow wings and fly away did it?"

The blonde vampiress was beginning to hate that knowing smirk the cretin was flashing at her. It didn't help that she couldn't read his eyes either with the glasses. Rosalie didn't appreciate being laughed at or toyed with for any reason.

Harry on the other hand was enjoying himself. He hadn't been able to annoy anyone (aside from the Pervert, but that didn't really count) since Seamus was killed.

"Oh, oh, I know!! There was this button and if you press it, it makes the car fly like…like magic."

"There's no such thing as magic."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"What are you? The Queen."

"And if I was."

"And if you were…I'd be some fluffy bunny somewhere."

"You couldn't be one even if you tried…and then you'd fail…miserably… though you do have the mental capacity of a mere rodent now that I think of it."

"You know what?" he paused as the words failed him. Rosalie started smirking in victory.

"What?"

"Chicken butt."

"What?"

"Ooh, in yo' face."

Rosalie just blinked before scowling. Really, they were lucky that the entire class hadn't started staring at them. It was embarrassing to even converse with this imbecile.

"Where the hell did you here that?"

Harry took on a rather smug air. He had actually picked up some of the local slang around the entrance to the magical alley, not that he'd enlighten the vampire. Still, it was good to know his skills at annoying people hadn't been tarnished during the war.

"Um…tv?" The questioning tone did nothing for Rosalie's rising ire.

"You don't have electricity." Harry gave her a slow measuring look.

"How do you know that? Are you some psycho-stalker chit?"

"I think you mean chick."

"Why would I be calling you a baby chicken? They're sooo much cuter…" Harry paused for a moment, as if pondering, "and nicer."

Rosalie ruthlessly squashed the urge to do Brevan bodily harm. She would not get suckered into this fool's game. She was, after all, the adult of the two and therefore more mature.

"You need electricity to run the TV, ignoramus."

"Oh, so that's how it works."

"Now I know you're being recalcitrant in the most idiotic fashion."

"Wait…what's a TV."

"A small box where you fry your brain."

"You can do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fry your brains?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No I'm not giving you a baby goat, it would be traumatized…for eternity."

Rosalie gave into her desire and let her hand fly. The resounding smack of her cuff on the back of Harry's head was lost in the din of the class's many voices.

"Ow, what was that for?" Harry barely contained his pout, rubbing the back of his head. He could tell that there was going to be a goose egg before the day's end.

"For being and idiot."

"Is it a crime to be an idiot? Seriously?" Harry was almost, almost, grinning maniacally, "Blimey, you yanks are brutal."

"Why do I even bother." Rosalie rubbed her temples. Harry gleefully rubbed his mental hands together. Almost there.

"Ooh, you mean a tele, right." Rosalie's eyebrow started ticking as her free began twitching. As if it took supreme effort for her to not strangle him.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" The twitching became more violent.

"Where'd you come out of? The Middle Ages?" The blonde snapped.

"How did you know?" The sardonic subtlety was lost to the vampire. Harry was almost doing a victory dance. He was also acutely aware that they were having the entire conversation in low tones, which in light of what he was attempting to do, was probably a good thing.

"That's not what I meant." Rosalie, in a valiant attempt to squash her more violent tendencies, growled.

"Perhaps, but I did…" Harry almost stumbled over his response. If this kept up any longer, he stood a very good chance of confusing himself too in the process. Sometimes he was trying to be too clever for his own good.

"What? No you are not distracting me again."

"I wasn't trying to, so back to the tele."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well we were talking about television, anyways maybe mine runs on **magic**, so it doesn't _need_ electricity." It was a moment before the blonde to realize what train of thought the idiot was following.

The desk cracked under the force of Rosalie's grip. Luckily the rest of the class wasn't paying attention as the din rose and projects worked on.

One of Harry's eyebrows rose over the top of his glasses. "Bloody hell, wouldn't want you to raise your blood pressure too much…on second thought never mind, you don't even have a pulse to begin with, do you?" the last part was phrased so innocently that it took all of the blonde's substantial willpower to keep from lunging at the nuisance. Though, the desk did pop for a brief moment before Rosalie slammed it down and glared venomously.

He knew the last part was a bit over the top and more than a bit callous. Harry also doubted, the moment he spoke, that the blonde would forgive him for the slur. But all was fair in love and war, especially where his privacy was concerned.

Besides if she was too distracted and angry with him to talk to him that was less of a concern off his shoulders. The last thing he need was a bunch of overly curious immortals snooping around in his business.

"By the way, I've been workin' on my 'mer'can." He started slipping into something of a southern drawl, "liiike it."

"No."

Rosalie fumed in her seat. For once she agreed with Edward, she was going to kill the idiot and then _ENJOY_ drinking his blood.

The bell rang signifying the ten minute break in between classes.

Harry smirked. Crisis avoided and one nosy vampire shut down. Never mind that they didn't get any work done. He was sure there would be plenty of opportunities in the future. Or if all else failed, he'd memorize their assigned section and hope for the best.

Now for his getaway…

……

The blonde had all but tore out of her class in a fit of rage, scattering the students before her like a flock of birds. No one, and she meant, no one had ever dared insult her like that…well, at least not anyone living.

Edward had only ignored her, and Emmett was playful, but that juvenile simpleton had flat out insulted her.

Rosalie scowled at the congregation around her locker. She was in no particular mood to deal with overly curious delinquents…otherwise known as siblings.

The vampiric beauty just shoved past them before anyone could shoot off a question, and began loading her book into the locker. The others waited quietly on either side.

Jasper, had she been looking, had a hint of a smirk hovering just beneath his neutral façade. He had expected as much considering the past confrontations the Brit had with Edward, though the blonde had to admit, Brevan Hunter had definitely out done himself if he could get under the Ice-Queen's impenetrable skin. She wasn't exactly personable, like Alice.

Rosalie had finally finished exchanging her books before shutting her locker with a slam, punctuating her irritation. She fixed a heated glare on her fellow flaxen haired immortal.

"Never ask me to do that again." She hissed before stomping off, gracefully, to her next class. Not allowing time for any questions.

Then again, Rosalie had never truly been a verbose individual either.

……

Harry actually dreaded the next couple periods of his day. That was what kept him from enjoying his minor victory earlier in English. Because all of which were to be spent in the library.

With his tutor.

With his perceptive, vampiric, intelligent tutor.

With his perceptive, vampiric, intelligent tutor who could make his academic life hell.

He was so screwed.

Harry groaned into the book he'd face planted in. He couldn't very well skip this part of the day, no matter how appealing the option. If he were to be frank with himself, he didn't have the guts to back out.

Or was that energy?

He couldn't tell anymore. All those years of Hermione conditioning had left an indelible mark upon his academic motivation.

Okay. He'd just have to act aloof, smooth…normal. Nothing was wrong with him. Nothing at all.

The other day had been a fluke. Nothing more.

Harry groaned again. This wasn't going to work. Perhaps he should just give up now?

Nahh. That would be too easy. And he was never one for letting people know about his emotionally tragic sob story.

The young wizard barely suppressed his groan when he heard the telltale sound of his tutor's dropping on the table. Well that and the distinct feeling that he'd come to associate with the other male.

Jasper, for his part, just glanced at the mortal in amusement. Seeing him worn out and fatigued reminded Jasper of the fragility of the human life and decided to hild off on his questions. Besides, after what he saw this morning, Brevan deserved a small reprieve, if only as a thank you for the entertainment.

To the young wizard's immense surprise, the blonde didn't even broach the subject, which made Harry suspicious. He had, after all, admitted to being related to both Princess and the Closet Pervert.

The time they spent together, studying was rather pleasant actually. Somehow it led to him sharing one of his escapades with Seamus, and a reluctant Blaise, in pranking and how they wreaked havoc on the camps underwear supply.

"Are you serious?" Jasper laughed when Harry had arrived at the point where there was the inevitable discover of frilly, lacey undergarments in all of the men's uniforms. Needless to say, the infamous trio made themselves scarce for a while.

"No, he's dead." The words popped out of Harry's mouth before he could stop them, freezing the teen in his spot. He hadn't meant to say that.

Jasper looked up sharply at the frozen boy. However, all the good natured banter ground to a halt at the awkwardness of the moment.

It had been a tasteless joke he'd had with his squad. Nothing more, nothing less.

Being with Jasper felt like being back with them. He felt so at ease that it just slipped out.

Morbid humor during a grim time, pun intended.

The blonde's company was dangerous. The wizard just clammed up and went back to his work. He just had to wait for the end of the day.

Harry grimaced. So much for acting normal.

……

"You suck at the whole spying thing." They had gone hunting as soon as they set their bags down in the door. Rosalie was still rather peeved about her encounter that morning.

"Emmett."

"Seriously. All I'm saying is that I expected more, you did have two brothers right?"

"They were children." She sniffed and looked the other way, "besides, I had more important things to do."

"Like what?"

"Looking perfect."

Emmett just stared (and blinked a few times). She had brothers, and she never tried to get them in trouble? Well heck, he constantly tried to get his own siblings in trouble just 'cause.

"Really?" the disbelief was still apparent.

"Emmett, have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

"Now that would be suicide…and I'm not suicidal." With a sigh the large vampire ran his hand through his hair, "Babe, all I'm saying is even I could have turned that conversation on him."

Sadly as Rosalie reflected on the repartee, she concurred. She'd never tell Emmett that…even if he was smarter than everyone believed.

Then the thought struck her. Perhaps Emmett would have better luck? After all it takes one to know one.

The blonde meandered off into the wood. She'd have to think on that.

……

Harry grumbled as he finished sponging the kitchen counter down. It would hardly do for him to get food poisoning or become sick just because he neglected to sterilize his counter tops.

Cleaning had become something of a relaxant for him. It was familiar, mindless, and oddly enough, calming.

Well that and he was erasing traces of blood. With how curious his neighbors were getting, he decided to err on the side of caution and clean up as much as possible.

The whole day was a mess. Yeah, he did manage to keep the blonde from putting him through the ringer only to let it slip an hour later in the library. If he was trying to lay-low then this was definitely the worst move he could have made…well besides that one time he and Seamus raided Neville's underwear drawer to prank him and yeah, good times.

The floor boards creaked in the hall. Harry froze, the hairs rising on the back of his neck at the sound and slowly turned around, palming his hidden blade.

There standing ominously, staring at him with maliciously yellow eyes, was one of the Trackers. Harry had known, after his confrontation with the scout, that they would be coming for him, he just hadn't expected this soon.

"So, you finally found me."

"No, we always knew where you were."

"I see." Without warning they lunged.

The shattering of glass echoed through the wood.

* * *

_:Tsudzuku:_

* * *

A/N: (*Wheeze*) remind me to never again write such a long chapter (dies). My plan had been to be finished with this story by August 31st (rants at plot muses). You all have been tortured enough with the wait, yes? (A/N: Sorry for the puns, most were unintentional, eheheh)

I want to point out three HP/Twilight stories. Thank these authors profusely for keeping me from being completely disgusted with the genre. They are: **With Wings of Feathers and Glue** by _**withRainyEyes**_, **Signs of Waking** by _**hangedfire**_, and **Frozen** by _**TanyaPotter**_.

As for the lengthy author's notes, as one gracious reviewer suggested, it might help for me to publish an companion appendices to help with the background info (would you like that?).

……

The blood. I made multiple references on how Harry didn't smell like normal human. It all ties into what happened to Harry during the war (and Ron)…

……

Poppet: it's sort of an endearment, a pet name. It's derisive (a way to call him weak) and _almost_ affectionate (like for a pet). To the reviewer _**Catzi**_, the wizard himself isn't anyone specifically from the books, hence the lack of name.

……

The flashbacks are written in reverse sequential order. So you know the aftermath before you know the cause. The letter flashback was from **Saving Private Ryan**. The attack was similar to Cloud Strife's Geostigma from **Final Fantasy VII:** **Advent Children**. And a little more **Count of Monte Cristo** (movie) reference.

……

Ah, about the Edward/Harry relationship, as one reviewer remarked: Edward may not like Harry (and vice versa), but he can't ignore him completely either.

I think what most people forget is to have that solid foundation to any and all relationships, there has to be two distinct and extremely important pieces: **Trust** _and _**Respect**, something that is missing from most ficts.

……

You know, I had an epiphany this summer. Twilight is almost a carbon copy of _Tuck Everlasting_ plot-wise. Just like Harry Potter could be directly correlated with _Wizard of Earthsea_. Defend all you want, I ain't changing my opinion.

Echo 10/09/09


	10. Hell Hunter

**Gotta Be Somebody **

By

Echo of a Memory

……

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 10: Hell Hunter

* * *

"Now! This is it! Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!"

**-Auron **(Final Fantasy X)**-**

**

* * *

**

Harry slugged the hunter sending flying into the wall, leaving an indent in the plaster. Bits of dust and wood floated down after the impact.

His knife had been knocked away early on and it was beyond his reach. He was about to lunge when a left hook caught him across the jaw and sent him through the window of small door. His body landed with a crunch on the glass as he rolled away.

He scrambled to his feet and tried to shake the fogginess that clouded his vision. He needed a clear head, otherwise he wouldn't survive.

Seigfreid "ziggy" McCoy was the most capable tracker in the Dark Light Syndicate and a formidable hand-to-hand combat. That wasn't even mentioning his formidable mage abilities. He fought dirty and wasn't afraid to soil his hands. He was most likely sent to soften Harry up before the real force came for him.

After all, they wouldn't want one of their only successful experiments to get away.

The young wizard had just gotten to his feet when the ground in front of him exploded. The noise crackled through the air as it ricocheted through the surrounding land. The force of the concussion sent him careening into trunk of a nearby redwood. Harry had presence enough to loosen his body enough to minimize the impact damage. His world should have been a haze of pain, however his mind became detached as soon as he slammed on the ground the first time.

It was a coping mechanism developed to ensure he wouldn't freeze up during combat. It also made him something of a juggernaut because he purposefully shut down his pain receptors.

Harry ducked just in time. A heavily booted leg impacted the spot where he just was.

This strategy wasn't unfamiliar to him. The guerrilla tactics were more than enough to keep him busy. It was one of the only effective ways to keep him from retaliating. Keep up a barrage of attacks, do as much damage, cripple if necessary, and then run to avoid backlash.

Considering Harry had just survived a relapse from the day before and that he was naturally handicapped because of the environment, this would definitely be the most optimal time to come after him. And for the most part he would have been a sitting duck…if he wasn't _who_ he was.

Harry rolled under the leg and flashed forward combining elbow strikes and knuckled punches to the man's exposed side. McCoy grunted under the attack. He saw a small opening and exploited it with all his might, striking like lightning. Harry, waiting for such an assault, feinted, countered and evaded.

The two traded blows back and forth. Neither gained the advantage over the other. Harry had speed and raw power despite of his condition and McCoy, strength and experience.

It wasn't a dance, like so many romantics would describe. It was a blood match. It was dirty. It was gritty. It was grueling. And it was very primal.

Only those who've had to struggle for their very survival would completely understand.

The hunter had been able to grab Harry's throat at one point and slammed him into the trees. Harry struck the man's elbow, forcing him to loosen his grip, and ducked away giving himself some breathing room.

Blood and glass fragments glistened, from the trunk of the sequoia where he impacted, in the dull gray light. Both were stark reminders that the teen had been sent through the windows of his kitchen door.

Harry scrambled for some space. The barrage had been relentless and his exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him.

He ducked his head just in time to dodge a wicked left-handed uppercut. However it was only just. He never noticed the rune light up on the back of the knuckled gloves McCoy was wearing.

It exploded.

Harry reeled back, blinded by the sudden impact and force. Somehow he knew a part of his forehead was cut and blood coated that side of his face like some twisted mask.

The blow knocked his glasses off, sending them into a nearby tree trunk with enough force to shatter. The shrapnel pummeled Harry with enough force to cause him to flinch away. He was sure the look he threw at the man was pure acid.

His opponent seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile grew. "So, those are them."

Harry's glare turned venomous.

"I had wondered what a near completed one looked like." He casually waved Harry's knife in his direction. The tracker had grabbed it right before leaping out of the house after the boy, "It's a good thing you kept those on. The muggles don't like anything…different."

"You mean the results of your forsaken experiments?" the teen managed to sneer, taking advantage of the small respite. It took every ounce of control he had to circulate what every trickle of magic he had in his body to heal some of the wounds and bolster him for whatever was next.

Ziggy sent him a knowing look. The younger warlock, because he had become less a common magic user and more a warrior with supernatural abilities, stilled. Harry's slightly glowing slit pupils adjusting, widening and shrinking, challenged his gaze right back.

"Experiments is such a harsh word," the seemingly unaffected, despite his roughed up appearance, wizard amicably returned though the humor was rather cold, "we prefer to call them: Enhancements."

Harry didn't really expect anything less, much less humane. After all, that organization was the Wizarding World's equivalent of unethical, immoral and 'scientifically' minded scientists. They made, tested, created, and experimented on ways to improve combat effectiveness and increase the magical channeling abilities of the future generations of magic users.

The wizarding version of the modern military's super-soldier project.

…and Harry had been their only successful experiment to date before Neville and his team rescued him. He had been a few months shy of seventeen at the time. The eighteen year old mentally shook the thoughts, he needed to focus.

"Was it Magic you used, or something else?" the teen enquired softly. His unnaturally green eyes glanced that the gloves the hunter was wearing.

"Oh, you'll just have to find out," the hunter bated. He knew that his prey was crippled and he knew the boy was exhausted. What he didn't expect was for the boy to do what he did.

He smiled.

It was a feral, vicious smile, one that accentuated his slit pupils and torn up appearance. But what was hidden behind the grin was even more terrifying. It was the look of a hunter, ready, waiting, and out for blood.

His blood.

And then he knew.

He had cornered him. But what he also knew was that the most dangerous types of prey were the wounded kind.

Especially predators.

They both knew the fight was far from over in that moment. Ziggy didn't need to speak anymore, he just shifted into a stance readied himself. Harry coolly noted the shift, he hadn't moved from his earlier stance, preferring to circulate his magic internally and provide some sort of healing and fortification for what he knew was ahead.

"So they did finish the impact runes after all." The ex-soldier spoke leisurely, gesturing towards the bloody knuckled gloves the wizard was wearing. Harry seemed to give no heed to the fact that his lip was split or the fact that he looked like he'd been through the meat grinder.

"So you did remember some, I was wondering about that."

"Not some," the younger male tensed," all."

He charged.

* * *

Rosalie and Emmett had both been hunting when a scent lured them off their chosen trail. It smelled vaguely like blood and yet so alien to anything they had every known before that their instincts kicked in and altered their paths. It wasn't until they arrived at their destination that both mates realized where they were.

And that it looked like a war zone.

* * *

Harry's body impacted the ground once more and he rolled away, noticeably slower than before. The hunter seemed to be taking his time, having gained the upper hand with a vicious elbow strike to the teen's head.

McCoy had been stalking up slowly after him, his intent to follow through all too clear, when the wizard froze a moment, his head snapped east. His body alert as it searched for something.

Harry watched him warily, barely able to stand and fighting every instinct and feeling that made want to drop right then. He was literally at war with his own body.

He spit his mouthful of blood, dirt and whatever else out to the side. It seemed Karma was out for his blood and Lady Luck had abandoned him spectacularly.

That was until the hunter let out a curse, chucked Harry's knife into the woods and sprinted away from the property, burring out of sight just before something else sped past him. The telltale gunshot crack of an apparition told the teen that his tormentor was gone, though how the man managed to bust through the natural magic barrier was a mystery to chew on later.

The exhausted raven-haired male winced slightly as he tried to turn his head. His vision was beginning to blur and darken around the edges.

The soft rustling of undergrowth and dirt alerted the tired teenager's mind to a new presence. Harry turned his head slightly to at least see whom his new visitor, and possible rescuer, was.

Slit, green-eyes met flicker gold and black.

* * *

Jasper stared.

Harry wearily returned the gaze. He was just trying to stay on his two feet at this point. The sight of the vampire seemed to have drained whatever remaining energy and fight left in him.

The blond had left the hospital to think and to hunt. He would need the fresh blood to bolster him while he contemplated the strange events that befell him earlier that day. He had just let his instincts run when he caught the sent of something seemingly familiar.

It was the moment after the strange man he'd been chasing had cracked away, something he wasn't sure he'd actually seen, that he realized his subconscious had seemingly took over. He had no memory from entering the forest just outside of Fork's small hospital to the extremely familiar car parked in the driveway of the property he found himself in.

The vampire's gaze still slightly hazed with a bit of red and his instincts were ramped up on what he could only describe as a version of adrenaline. Still his astonishment at the surly teen's physical state as well as the yard had shocked him to a standstill.

Both seemed to be regarding the other without a clue as to what to say. Harry was due more to his barely conscious state. Jasper, his confusion about everything that had happened.

Rosalie and Emmett landed in the torn-up clearing startling both occupants.

The blonde male let out a hiss at the pair as soon as they touched the forest floor, the scent of the tainted blood bring his more primal instincts to the fore. Having had contact with the magically enhanced stuff seemed to have some effect on him.

Not hungry…Aggressive.

Unpredictable.

Both Cullens stopped as close to the wizard as they dared, Emmett positioning himself between his mate and the obviously dangerous blonde. Their baser instincts made them weary as one predator would be around a wounded and, possibly, more dangerous one no less.

Oddly enough, their primal instincts blared warningly them to remain cautious of the wounded's protective pack mate. A thought they as vampires wouldn't normally supply in lieu of one of their own. However their consciousness became fogged as their instincts clawed to the fore.

The scent of the strange blood in the air was intoxicating. Like it drew them to touch but repulsed them to taste at the same time. Without them being aware of their actions, both mates began separating in the directions of the largest patches of blood.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The voice broke through the trance the two vampires were under. Shaking off the hypnotic effects of the scent, like a dog shaking off water, they seemed to come to.

Jasper hadn't moved for his position, observing the two carefully. He had managed to clamp down some of the stronger impulses enough to think straight. However, he remained cautious.

"What was that?"

"Blood."

"I know that," Rosalie snapped testily, "I mean what was that…whatever it was, that called to us."

Harry stopped a moment. He couldn't really blame them for being curious. He looked like a mess, there was a massive amount of property damage that he had no way of fixing (yet), and there was blood everywhere.

Most of which was his.

He flickered his unnatural eyes at them, freezing the two on the spot.

"What are you?" Emmett gaped. Harry's response was a flaring of the pupils, widening the slits into cat-like diamonds before they shrank back to almost reptilian-like pupils once more.

Harry grimaced.

He really didn't want to answer to an inquisition at the moment. He needed every spare moment to rest. And it was going to take all weekend to even heal up partially, as it was.

The teen mentally sighed when another thought struck him. He was going to have to plan visiting the settlement in Seattle at another time. Great, more unnecessary delays. He replied to Emmett's inquiry.

"Your neighbor." The raven-haired male quipped, before he tiredly addressed his tutor not even bothering to look over his directly at the eldest vampire, "Jasper, could you get my knife?" his head slightly tilted in the direction it was thrown.

Wanting to clear his head and needing to leave the heady aroma of the blood scented clearing, Jasper acquiesced. It would only take a few moments.

The ex-soldier's keen sight soon caught sight of the blade, buried up to the hilt, in the thick undergrowth of the forest floor. Caught up in his thoughts, the blonde just grabbed the weapon and began his trek back towards the others.

He was startled out of his reverie when a cold bite numbed his hand before seemingly setting the nerves on an icy fire. In surprise he threw the blade in Brevan's direction before attending to his hand.

Jasper's yelp of surprise drew everyone's attention.

Harry's knife dropped on the ground with a 'plop' while the blonde male shook out his hand as though something shocked it numb. The younger wizard stared as the telltale runes glowed and faded back into the leather grip of the handle.

He forgot to tell the eldest vampire that the think was enchanted and warded with runes. Unfortunately it only worked for direct skin contact, which was why Ziggy had been able to turn the thing back on him. The man had gloves.

Most likely enchanted as well…and probably a prototype.

Rosalie glared at him testily but otherwise made no move from her position. She was however brimming with new questions now.

And she wanted answers.

However even she was not completely insensitive to the situation. No matter how much she wanted to throttle their annoying neighbor's neck.

Emmett, feeling a bit out of his depth and knew that his wife would fill him in later, left to presumably patrol the area and make sure that the other male was truly gone. Rosalie knew he wouldn't be far as he didn't completely trust either Jasper or Brevan at the moment.

He was also glad to get out of the intensely charged atmosphere. He wasn't one to dwell in such emotional states. That was more Edward's and Jasper's arenas.

It left one near-dead wizard alone with two very inquisitive vampires.

Harry didn't give them a chance to interrogate. He turned and slowly limped his way towards his demolished kitchen entry. The remains of the door he'd crashed through were scattered

Of course in turning, he'd exposed his torn up back to them.

Jasper eyed the glass shards, and various other debris, sticking out of Harry's back in addition to hinting at an assortment wounds he's obviously received from his fight. Concern welled up in him, almost unwillingly.

"You should get those looked at."

Harry didn't even bother stopping his slow trek back towards his house. "No."

"Our father is a doctor, he could help you."

"No." the tone Harry used told them that that avenue was closed. Irrefutably.

"You'll been absent then, until you heal?" Jasper tried a different tact.

"No."

"Then why don't you just go into hiding or stay put?" the Civil War vet suggested sensibly.

Harry looked at both immortals. Jasper, he knew, meant well and Rosalie was there out of curiosity. He sighed. It wasn't like he was being completely open about himself. His cover was effectively blown, by himself no less, and he really didn't have anywhere else to run.

…and they had all seen his eyes.

"Because no one likes being imprisoned in their own home," He turned and quietly slipped into his house, his 'rug' squeaked in protest. The vampires barely made out his whispered reply, "Especially 'for their own good'."

He disappeared into the shadows of his house, leaving two very confused vampires.

* * *

_:Tsuzuku:_

_

* * *

_

A/N: Hallo Jeder!!

I assure you I am not dead and thank you for being patient. I had to step back and take a breather before resuming work on this piece.

This is a short chapter to jumpstart my muse. Unlike the last one (monster), this is only about eight pages (versus my normal 15-40+ paged chapters, erk!). I was thinking a little more development on Harry's end of the story.

……

Since I am not a slash fan, this has been an interesting exercise. I will warn you all though, all that touchy-feely-warm-fuzzy-ooey gooey-teeth rotting-teen angst has been summarily nuked, h-bombed, and acid-bathed (any hint of that in this fict will be bound, gagged, and chucked to the sharks). Harry will probably stay prickly for a long time.

For those of you looking for a non-slash fict, I offer Dark Horse for you. GBS is more...neutral. Anything that happens will be slowly developed and will happen much, much later.

Why I say that, if you read about 99% of the genre you'll find that everyone of writes the same thing. Harry leaves England. Harry magically somehow ends up in Forks. He's suddenly become some bishounen (pretty boy). He's super powerful. He's discovered by or moons over Edward on sight. They go through a few things, yadda yadda, and voila! They fall 'in love' (or lust, I can't decide) within the first 2-5 chapters and can't live without the other…(and I'm sure you get my point)

……

You know the irony of the 'red-ribbon' that is Rosalie's gift? I had thought the idea original…that is until I actually watched few episodes of Yu Yu Hakusho. Kuwabara, you annoy me so, so much.

Echo 1/25/10, 4/20/10


	11. No Apologies

**Gotta Be Somebody **

By

Echo of a Memory

…

Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Twilight Saga © Stephanie Meyer

* * *

Chapter 11: No Apologies

* * *

"Never Apologize…It's a Sign of Weakness."

-**Leroy Jethro Gibbs **(NCIS)-

* * *

"_What are you doing?" _

_Harry struggled weakly against his captors. He was battered, bruised and severely weakened by the ambush. He had been separated from the rest of his team and worked over severely by the grunts now towing him down the halls, his feet dragged behind him. _

"_Where are you taking me?" _

_Again the men dragging him along the cobblestone corridor sojourned on in stony silence. Their leader was about ten steps or so ahead of them with a fire lit torch, one that severely reminded Harry of Dudley's adventure movies where the explorer used a branch with a flaming cloth on the end to adventure in old ruins and caves. Before Aunt Petunia screeched at him to turn off and put on something more educational, like the Home and Garden channel. _

"_Why are you doing this?"_

_The lead goon, as Harry had dubbed him, only paused for a moment with a raised eyebrow in a mock questioning look. The teen didn't even have time to register that before something heavy and blunt cracked down upon him, __**hard**__, temporarily knocking him unconscious. When he came to, the young wizard's head was aching and spinning simultaneously, he felt nauseous, and something warm was running from his temple and down the side of his face. _

"_Lookit 'ere, lads," a heavily Cornish accented voice from somewhere in front of him practically leered, "Sleepin' Beaut'y 's awak'n." _

_Harry was so disoriented at that point that he couldn't do more than hang limply between the two men dragging him along. He was only fifteen after all. Not that that small fact mattered, the leader kept right on speaking, as though Harry had his full wits about him and thus understood every word he spoke. _

"_Ya wan'ed ta know wha' we're doin', why we fin' gen'lemen of breedin' a're escortin' ya."_

_Subconsciously the teen registered the sneer, however he was only peripherally aware of it. His head swam as he was jostled none to gently between the two captors draggin him. Why they didn't use magic, Harry didn't know. But if he were to guess, he'd either say that this place (wherever it was) was warded against magic or, more likely, they wanted to 'soften' him up some more before they got to their destination. _

"_A' fer wher' we're takin' ya, a s'pecial place, jus' fer ya." Harry could practically feel the cruel amusement, even through his foggy haze of pain. Whatever was running down his face was dripping onto the floor…or his clothes, he couldn't have guessed in his state. _

"_An as fer why, cause you was bough' 'n paid fer, like a good littl' sol'dja'." At this the torch holder let out a laugh that would have caused the hair on the back of Harry's neck to rise, "Them civvies dun' thin' too much of ya sol'djas. Whil' ya pay fer the'r freedom in bloo' 'n pain, they's woul' willin'ly shoo' ya in the back, or sell ya ou', if'n puts a' few galleons in they' purses, getting' fat an' lazy." _

_Harry, his mind slightly clearer, but in no way able to do more than let the man's words float over his head. What he said next, though, rang through his foggy mind clear as a bell._

"_They thin' it's all a game." _

_Had he had the strength, Harry probably would have at least drudged up some energy to defend the Queen's People. However, being on the cruel end of public expectations, manipulations, and abuse of the civilian populace for the better part of his life, would also have made him pause. _

_The general apathy of the populace, both magical and non-magical, and their general hostility towards those in active service, egging and jeering troops as they come back from tours of duty, jeering and protesting funerals, shouting abuse at the grieving families made it hard to justify why he and those like him, should spend their time protecting such trash. After all, they delighted in the downfall of others, watched (in a crowd of forty plus) as a girl was gang raped for __**entertainment**__ (they didn't even try to help), and complained, hated on, and published literature about how the world was unfair to them when they did __**nothing**__. _

_A veritable roar shook the stones around them. Harry could literally feel the very air tremble. _

_As the echoes died down, the torch bearer turned back and gave him a nasty smile. In the flickering light it became ominous. Instinctively, the teen knew he was going towards something much worse than death and began to shake. His tormenters' grip became noticeably vice like on either arm, and their unseen features took on coldly amused looks. The leader of the bunch didn't restrain his sadistic amusement one iota. He __**wanted**__ Harry to know that he was taking delight in this._

"_Ah, looky 'ere, lads. Seems 'e 'asn't got a clue. Or mee'be bein' chased by one o' these things wasn't enough."_

_Slowly recognition and fright made their way into the young wizard's eyes as they cleared. The leader, who'd been watching him closely allowed himself to savor the look with much sadistic pleasure. Almost agonizingly he prowled up to the boy and bent over so that he was close enough to almost intimately speak to him in a mocking, falsely concerned tone. _

"_Dun' w'rry, the rit'al won' hur'…much." Harry's struggles, as feeble as they were, were renewed as sheer terror took a hold of him. His captors just laughed coldly as they dragged him along, not even bothering to try and calm him. Each was taking a sadistic delight in the slow torturous mockery of a procession._

_Another roar shook the halls._

* * *

Dull emerald eyes slowly fluttered open.

Harry couldn't really make out anything at first or was he aware of his surroundings. Instinctually though, he knew he was somewhere safe. Slowly, ever so slowly, the world around him came into focus.

He was lying face down across the wooden threshold of his 'room', surrounded by bits of dirt, wood, glass, and blood. Just beyond his fingertips lay the potion he'd apparently been taking before passing out. The glass phial was lying on its side, uncorked, and was mostly empty. Around the lip of the bottle, small drops of purple-ish liquid dripped into a puddle that spilled out when Harry presumably dropped it.

The small pool of lavender potion almost had a silvery tint to it with the pearlescent 'skin' that had swirled over it. It was a small testament as to how long he'd been laying there.

Harry grimaced as he ran a small mental check on his body. Pain was not a new experience for Harry. His first memories at the Dursleys ensured that. However his body was in no condition whatsoever to be moved. He still hadn't recovered from his last episode and this last encounter with his tracker only aggravated his condition.

Stubbornly, with a will born of steel and tried fire, the seventeen year old wizard stiffly and ever so slowly moved his protesting limbs to where he was in position to awkwardly push himself up on his knees. Bits and pieces of debris flaked off of him as he moved.

Everything hurt.

Harry, stubborn though he was, allowed a groan and wince at the pain he felt. He was alone and had no one to witness his moment of weakness, which was why he allowed it. He was able to make it to his hands and knees before dizziness overtook him. After the episode, the teen grimaced slightly. The warning his body was sending him told him what he already knew. He'd lost too much blood and was at risk of collapsing again if he went too quickly.

That said, he stubbornly forced his limbs to move and stiffly crawled back towards the destroyed kitchen, leaving his potion phial where it was. He'd clean it up later, when he could move properly.

Harry set his jaw and grit his teeth as he awkwardly shuffled and crawled through the disaster that had been his kitchen towards the only source of running water in the house, his sink faucet. He repurposed an empty pail for use of water. He needed to clean off his wounds. The last thing he wanted was an infection.

Granted his immune system had been tweaked to be just about impervious to everything, but he wasn't about to take a chance. Harry couldn't go to a hospital, Mundane or otherwise, because of that…amongst other things.

In almost palpable relief he made it to the remarkably intact section. For a moment he didn't care that his hand would most likely be taken hostage by his cranky spigot, he just wanted to at least feel some form of relief from his grubbiness and go back to collapse on his sleeping bags. It was Saturday (he was sure of it) and thus had the entire weekend to 'heal up' enough to endure a still, sore week at school.

And he was certain that he'd scared his neighbors away for the time being and thusly would still have time to clean up the mess the fight had made. With that slightly, less than thought out idea in mind, Harry scrambled (stiffly and awkwardly) up his cupboards and heavily leaned against the counter. His head spinning and threatening to put him back into a subconscious state because of the movement.

Once his world stopped spinning, Harry laboriously lifted his pail into the sink and waited a beat before slowly reaching for the faucet. He ignored the fact that it growled at his offending appendage and clumsily stroked the slightly warm metal.

"Hey boy," Harry mumbled, "how about some warm water?"

Apparently the appliance was appeased by the token offering of attention and complied. Soon warm, slightly steaming, clear water filled his pail. At least the magic hadn't been a total flop, Harry subconsciously reasoned. His magical mishap with his sink left him with a slightly intelligent, if cranky, spigot that filtered his water to almost pure status, which actually relieved him a great deal of worry.

Harry, assuming he was alone in his house (even with a broken kitchen door) and not really caring anyways, fumbled as he removed the remains of his t-shirt to begin washing away the evidence of the fight. It wasn't until it hit the debris covered floor that Harry's rather distracted mind reminded him that he needed a rag to help with his bath.

He wasn't even aware that he had company until a rather pale hand offered a clean cloth up in his line of vision. Harry's eyes registered the object but his brain was rather sluggishly in processing what exactly it was that he was seeing. Slowly he followed his line of sight to meet the golden amber of his tutor's.

He blinked uncomprehendingly.

When his conscious mind finally started working, not soon enough in his opinion, all he could do was stare. And stare he did.

* * *

Jasper was neither surprised at Brervan's condition, nor at the numerous scars that decorated his student's torso. Those details only confirmed his suspicions and mental profile he'd begun to make of the teen over the few months he'd come to know the boy. It just added another piece of telltale information that was making the picture clearer of the other teen. One he wasn't sure he wanted to know completely.

He had watched over the teen from afar, to make sure that his attacker hadn't come back, and to keep the nosy Edward from investigating and harassing the other boy.

Once his senses had returned to a somewhat acceptable level, though he was still somewhat sensitive to the blood in the surrounding area, he'd chased away Emmet and Rosalie (much to her ire, he was definitely going to be in for it when he returned to the house) and patrolled the area. After he was reasonably sure that the assailant was gone, he braved the warzone that had been Brevan's untamed yard and slipped into the house. He hardly noticed the fur covered banisters and squeaky fur patches by the doors boards.

No. What caught his attention and held it was the absolute hurricane that had once been the kitchen. Walls had been caved in, brutalized and otherwise ruined. The floor was covered in glass shards and what had once been wooden cupboards, tiled counters, and possibly and ancient refrigerator, were nothing more than pieces of rubble and twisted lumps of metal. The only untouched area was the countertop and cupboard surrounding a single spigot porcelain sink.

He would have stayed there marveling at the level of destruction if his sensitive hearing hadn't picked up on the slightly labored breathing from somewhere beyond the door that led into the hallway. The old civil war soldier crept deeper into the house.

While he might not have been comfortable entering another abode without permission, Jasper couldn't justify a reason not to. Especially not after what he'd witnessed the day before.

Brevan had been seriously injured. The compassionate soul within him, buried though it was, couldn't and wouldn't let him leave the other teen alone for long. He knew he'd found something special with this boy, something only they could relate to.

It took everything within his already limited willpower to keep from rushing to the unconscious body that lay sprawled across the entrance of the living room and carrying him off to Carlisle. What had really hardened his resolve was the sight and the smell of Brevan's unusual blood. It sharply reminded him of his personal experience with it as well as the Cullen Clan head's.

He put aside his common-sense (which said, 'help!') long enough to make a logical solution to the situation. Brevan's behavior towards the end of the fight had strongly suggested that he was opposed to any sort of medical treatment, which Jasper would have found odd if he hadn't had personal experience with Brevan's unusual nature. What also stayed his 'do something' urge was the British teen's look before he closed the door in their faces.

Well that and his parting sentence.

He didn't mean the eyes, reptilian and unusual to be sure, but the look of a broken, tired and defeated soldier. Someone like him. Someone else who had to fight against the had he'd been dealt and had suffered for it.

And if that was telling enough, his sentiment about being helped for 'his own good' certainly did the trick. So he waited.

Jasper had withdrawn, never noticing the strangely colored liquid in the glass vial, and kept vigilance over his student. Someone, who was rapidly becoming his charge in his mind. A person who needed his help and protection.

And it was with that resolve, the vampire had waited until Brevan had stirred and watched closely from the shadows as he slowly made his way towards the sink in the kitchen. With each struggle and each refusal to give in, Jasper became more impressed and his respect for his fellow survivor had grown.

So it was that he found himself looking into pain clouded, sparking emerald slit eyes. Eyes, that looked at him in confusion and no small amount of anger.

Jasper could slightly understand that. He had seen the other male's time of weakness, not something someone like Brevan (or himself) took with any coup de grace. However his silent offering of help and understanding seemed to hold that raging storm at bay.

So, without a word, Brevan turned his back and silently offered Jasper his trust and accepted his help. So he didn't see the small smile that the vampire allowed himself.

It was a start.

Finally, after months of trying to garner some sort of trust between them, he was being offered small opening. He felt something within him move and a sense of peace settled over him.

Perhaps Brevan wasn't the only one who needed help after all.

Perhaps he wasn't the only one who needed healing either.

* * *

Harry stared hard at the blond. He had learned long ago that any weakness was exploitable. The Durselys had used them. Dumbledore had used them. Ron had used them. Voldemort had used them.

All against him.

And all with great effectiveness.

Harry could feel his defensive rage beginning to boil to the fore. For so long he'd fought and protected himself. He made sure that no one would be able to see his glaring human frailty again, especially after Luna had died. She had been the last to see him before he steeled his heart and let the last of himself disappear under the blooded, jaded warlock he'd become.

And here was an unwelcome person, who would want to 'help' him out of pity and self-guilt. Someone who'd witnessed his weakness. Gathering his small reserve of strength, Harry steel himself for evicting this trespasser out of his house. He then looked Jasper straight in the eye.

That stopped him. There was no pity in them, only a sad understanding.

And he looked, really looked, at the other teen. Slightly, almost barely noticeable, were small, strangely shaped scars. They littered his exposed skin.

Surprise and realization stunned the wizard. Jasper knew. Not particulars perhaps, but at least knew. He knew and understood what hell on earth was like. He lived through it also. And he didn't pity him.

Harry's gaze looked back at the proffered rag before making his decision.

Something within Harry turned over. And he found himself wanting, for the first time in a long, long time, wanting to trust someone again.

Wanting to trust Jasper.

Because…because he understood.

Harry turned and offered his blood-stained, torn up, debris imbedded and heavily scarred back to his high school tutor. He couldn't say the words, but then again he spoke more with his actions anyways.

Perhaps…

Perhaps he'd let someone else in again.

Just this one last time, he would allow himself to hope again.

* * *

_**::To Be Continued::**_

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your patience (and especially to all of you who have not given up hope)!

As my chapter title states, I make no apologies for the extended (and forced) absence of this story. But I will tell you one of (and the most relevant) the reasons 'why' for the retardedly long wait.

In my wisdom, I bought a USB drive from Apple to store my work in two places and have backups. And it worked fairly well…for all of 2 years. I had this update (60+ pages) and the rest of the story saved on it (as well as 7 years worth of work). However, due to…whatever malfunction suddenly self-destructed it, it summarily deleted itself…along with just about everything else.

The damage is irrecoverable.

_**FYI: **_The 'Rant' as some will dub it in the flashback isn't. Sadly all that Harry's 'Would-Be' speculation has happened in my home state, so yes, it _is_ a true, sad fact, and it _did_ happen. Believe me, it is a _very_ bitter pill to swallow.

**Saddens and angers ya doesn't it?**

…

So apparently there are a few concerns about the normal modus operandi in HP/Twilight crosses. The first being graphic porn. The second is male pregnancy. And the third is sympathy for the characters (Harry mainly).

So to clear up any confusion, repeat after me: "I don't do normal."

Get it? Got it? Good. (Then say it again)

Status-quo or not, it won't follow the others. Why?

Harry **despises** Edward and probably will for a long time (there will be no touching or cuddles, unless Edward wants to have his are ripped off and then beaten with it).

Male pregnancy? There are many, _many_, _**many**_ reasons why this will not come to pass. A few are: Harry suffers severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (amongst other things), he's just learned to cover it very well (a product of his childhood, schooling, and the war), whatever 'magic' is usually conjured up for 'magical pregnancies' is annulled because of what happened to him (Deus ex machine plot killer, Hah!), he's emotionally stunted and therefore will act out differently than 'normal' society, and he's fresh from a bloody Hell-on-Earth war…just to name a few.

And finally, you're not meant to be sympathetic towards his character. Just to simply _**understand**_ this _**one**_ side of many that he's showing. Over time he will slowly leak out the 'true' Harry, the damaged, neglected, and hurting child, as well as other parts of his personality.

Remember this:

"He who laughs and smiles the most is often the one who is the most hurt."

…

Echo 3/8/11, 5/5/11, 5/6/11


End file.
